


Badlands

by dawons



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Angst, Chanhee is a demon, Dawon is a demon, Dawon is a demon that eats human's memories, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hwiyoung is hwiyoung, I'm an asshole, Inseong is a human, Jaeyoon is suffering, Juho is a mess, M/M, Mild Smut, Oh my God if you know me and my fics you know how much angst i mean when i write, Rowoon is also a mess, Shock factor, Slow Burn, Taeyang is living his best life, Youngbin is a demon, existing, he's just kinda, i only tag one "death", i will not tag the actual deaths with a tw when they occur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-05-31 17:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 64,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19430338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawons/pseuds/dawons
Summary: "I'm never letting you go."Inseong can't tell if it's meant to be reassuring or a possible threat, but with Sanghyuk's arms locked so tightly around his waist, he can only assume it's the latter. "And why's that?" He whispers nervously, feeling the other's breath hot on his neck as Sanghyuk's lips travel across his skin.Sanghyuk laughs, but there's no amusement in his words. "Because you're mine, remember?"





	1. Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; mild, semi-non descriptive smut for the first bit of the chapter

Sanghyuk feels that she’s close, and knows that when she finishes, he’ll take her further.

Her fingernails scrape his bare back, leaving angry red slashes against his tanned skin. He couldn’t care less about her, or how she screams for him on top of the fresh linen sheets he’d _just_ washed that morning. Every bit of this was work for him, and he enjoyed none of it even in the slightest. Though, the reward for his hard effort... He would do _anything_ for it, and begrudgingly continues.

“Fuck,” she gasps, voice pitching up, her statement punctuated with a soft moan. Her dark hair splays out behind her on the white pillowcase, and her pink, gloss coated lips are parted around groans and words that come out as broken consonants and vowels. Surely, this is somebody else’s dream, their private fantasy that they only begin to imagine when they’re alone in the dark. There’s no pleasure in any of Sanghyuk’s motions or actions, though. It definitely isn’t his dream.

Until she breaks, that is. He feels her consciousness slipping as she finishes, and as it does he closes the distance between them. He hooks his lips roughly onto hers, biting them gently to elicit any further reaction he can. He feels her hold begin to loosen, the adrenaline and euphoria from the previous moments causing her head to spin, and she’s unable to come up with any coherent thought as she’s sent reeling.

Sanghyuk takes advantage of this, bringing one hand to the side of her head while the other travels lower, attempting to keep her distracted while he took something she wouldn’t recollect.

His fingers slip between her thighs the moment he feels one of her memories break away from her. He takes it eagerly, and when he’s sure her subconscious isn’t trying to tear it away from him, he swallows it. He gasps, feeling a burst of warmth explode through him before it dissipates, and he brings his lips back to hers, searching for any memory that dangles on the verge of her mind.

It’s cruel, to use her like this, but how else could a demon take a human’s memories without them noticing? Sanghyuk knows it’s wrong, but feels no remorse as he continues, stealing memory after memory until he feels he may take too many at once.

He leans back, pulling away from her. Unknowingly, she’d just lost the better half of her memories from the past year. Important events he’d allowed her to keep, but those that she wouldn’t miss he’d happily taken off of her hands. Her awful first dates, time spent with friends, thoughts of her daily routine, and everything in between belonged to Sanghyuk now. One seems to drift to the forefront of his mind; she stares blankly at herself in a mirror, straightening her hair. He forces it back down, grimacing, swallowing thickly around it.

Their exchange is over. He’d done her a favor, and she’d payed him back, albeit completely unknowingly. How could she know he took memories she can’t even remember anymore?

She follows him up, wanting more, but Sanghyuk shakes his head.

“It’s getting late.”

She’d obviously thought their date would continue. There’s disappointment written clearly across her face, but she gets up regardless. Sanghyuk feels he should be proud of how hesitant and sore her movements are, but he really just wants her gone.

He’s ashamed, of what he is and what he must do, but he tries not to let it affect him. Fate had handed him a cruel part to play, but he should play it well, shouldn’t he? He watches her collect her clothes from the floor, and closes his eyes as she puts them back on. He settles back against the bed, exhaustion curling around him like a blanket.

After a moment, when he still hears her shuffling awkwardly around the room, he opens an eye to see her fidgeting next to his door. “Yeah?”

“Are you...?” Her question doesn’t need to be finished for Sanghyuk to give her an answer. Her gaze is on his car keys, which hang dangerously on the edge of his jacket pocket.

“Get a cab,” he closes his eyes again, and hears a huff of disbelief before his bedroom door is thrown open. He waits another moment and hears the front door open and slam shut, and in the moments that it’s askew he can hear a downpour from outside. “Ah, it’s raining... Poor thing,” he mumbles, but means nothing by it. He couldn’t care less about her.

He sighs, sitting up abruptly. He’d have to wash the sheets again, wouldn’t he? They reek of the human that had been occupying them. He slides off of the bed and finds a pair of his sweats on the floor, slipping them over his legs slowly.

Standing, he begins to peel the blankets off of his bed. He throws them into a neat pile on the floor, and goes as far as to rip the pillowcases off of his pillows and add them to the pile as well. He couldn’t _stand_ the smell of perfume; it dulled his senses, and made the memories he’d recently eaten leave a sour taste in his mouth, replacing the intoxicating sweetness that the memories often left behind. There’s something about the chemicals in the perfume, he assumes. It was the same with cologne, but he didn’t mind that smell as much as he did the aforementioned.

Outside, the city is alive with lights and people, bustling through the streets and on the sidewalks in clusters though the rain comes down around them. They all leave him uninterested, their senses all dulled by the city life. He liked those that had an eye for things, who took in every little detail and lived their lives to the fullest. _They_ were the ones with the richest memories.

His door creaks open, and he turns to watch a redhead poke his head into the room. “Sanghyuk,” he greets awkwardly, continuing when the ebony haired demon turns his attention back to the mess on the floor, “did you just throw that girl out in the freezing cold to walk home?”

“She can get a cab,” Sanghyuk grumbles, voice low and filled with pleasure from the last moments he’d spent with her; from the foreign thoughts he could still taste like candy on his tongue. “I wasn’t about to drive her home. Traffic sucks right now.”

The redhead closes his eyes and raises his eyebrows, grimacing. “Well, you could be a little kinder...”

“No.”

The other nods. “I figured you’d say that.”

Sanghyuk turns towards him tiredly after grabbing the bundle of cloth in his arms. “Is there anything else you need, Youngbin? I’m busy right now.”

“Uh,” Youngbin turns around. Sanghyuk can hear somebody’s soft, desperate whispering, and Youngbin turns back towards Sanghyuk, “yeah.”

Unamsued, Sanghyuk kicks his door open further to reveal the brunette that seems to cower behind Youngbin. “Well, what is it, Chanhee? Out with it.”

The youngest of the three jumps at the sudden attention, taking another step behind Youngbin. Sanghyuk smirks, knowing he was the only one that wouldn’t take the youngest’s antics. Chanhee could command anybody to do whatever he wanted; his cute, innocent face only being a facade for the powers beneath. He had everybody else wrapped around his finger, the prince of the home.

They were a group of five that had broken off from their original legion, creating one of their own in the city. It was in the middle of a rival legion’s territory, though, so they needed to keep their actions quiet as to not arise suspicion. Fights between demons got messy.

“I need a ride to the library.”

Sanghyuk cocks his head to the side, a silent invitation for Chanhee to follow him. He was rough with him, but if the youngest needed help he wouldn’t make him ask twice. “What are you going for?” He walks down the hall until he reaches the door to the bathroom, and Chanhee opens it for him before leading him inside, opening up the top of the washer. Sanghyuk thanks him, dropping the blankets inside before opening the overhead cabinets, searching for detergent.

The soap smells like lavender when it’s poured into the machine. Chanhee scuffs his shoe against the floor, watching the other work idly. “I need to study.”

“Finals?”

The youngest nods. He was finishing his last year of high school that month, and had exams for the next week. His graduation would follow shortly after. Sanghyuk lets the top of the washer drop shut, and the metallic echo sings through the room. Chanhee winces at it. “Yeah, I’ll give you a ride.”

Chanhee bounds out of the room quickly, and Sanghyuk hears his bedroom door smash against the wall as it’s thrown open. Moments later Chanhee returns, an opened bag slung over his shoulder and a grateful expression on his face. Pencils and notebooks hang precariously on the edge of the bag, threatening to topple out and onto the hardwood floors with every step Chanhee takes.

“Thank you,” his lips turn up in a smile. Sanghyuk scoffs, tousling his hair.

“Go wait in the car.”

The youngest obeys, and Sanghyuk leaves to grab his phone from his room. He passes Youngbin, who hadn’t moved from his previous spot. “Is there something you need?

The redhead watches Sanghyuk, eyes scanning him for something. Sanghyuk raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. His phone buzzes from where it lays abandoned on his floor.

“No.”

Sanghyuk shakes his head, grabbing his phone before leaving to go to the car.

* * *

Sanghyuk watches Chanhee read with boredom in his gaze, having nothing better to do since his phone had died. He’d been playing a video game emulator he’d downloaded until his battery had fully drained, and now tapped his idle fingers solemnly against the table.

Leaning over to scribble something in the notebook he’d brought with him, Chanhee murmurs a quick, “stop that,” to Sanghyuk, who obliges begrudgingly. Instead, he begins to tap his foot, the sound echoing in the library.

The building was large. The first floor was a cafe, and the next four were designated for the library. Chanhee and Sanghyuk had gone to the second floor, where most of the student textbooks were located. Some were on the third floor, though, with the comic books and light novels. The fourth was strictly for novels, and boasted a large, upwards sloping glass ceiling that showcased the sky nicely. It hung over a reading area, from what Sanghyuk had seen on his few trips there before.

The third floor sounds more appealing than being stuck watching Chanhee read and take notes, so he stands and begins to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Chanhee turns quickly, eyes narrowed. “What, did you see somebody else?”

Sanghyuk knows he’s referring to the girl from before. He shakes his head, stuffing his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “No, no, just decided I wanted to get a few things done.”

Chanhee raises an eyebrow. Sanghyuk scoffs at him. “I’m allowed to read.”

“Are you?” The younger teases, but before Sanghyuk can answer he turns his attention back to his studying. “Bye.”

Sanghyuk crosses the library and ascends the stairs, fingers toying with his keys absentmindedly. He tries to keep his gaze low when he reaches the third floor, not wanting to be pulled in by the first person he saw with clear, thoughtful eyes. He could pick out who had the most vivid memories very easily by judging somebody’s eyes, and knew he wouldn’t be able to resist if he ended up seeing somebody who matched his criteria.

He stops in front of a white shelf with a sign reading _New Releases_ hanging off of it. He picks one up, flipping it over before skimming over the description idly. Something about robots, he sets it back down, uninterested as he picks something else up.

It’s more promising, some superhero comic that he remembers seeing movie trailers for the day prior. He decides it’ll do, finally raising his eyes to look around the floor.

A boy with silver hair stares at him from where he’s standing behind the checkout desk, lips pulled tightly together as he analyzes Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk knows him.

He doesn’t know from where, but the boy’s face makes his heart begin to beat frantically. He quickly drops his gaze again, planning on making their exchange as quick as he can. He walks over to the desk, drops the comic onto it, and fishes for his card in his pocket.

The boy’s voice cracks when he asks “checking out or purchasing?”. It was something he’d likely rehearsed with countless other customers, but never with Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk had the other’s voice trembling; he wants to know _why._

“Purchasing,” Sanghyuk finally lets his card meet the book, looking to the other. Well, _up_ to the other. He’s very tall. Sanghyuk’s heart flutters. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

He shakes his head. Sanghyuk searches for a name tag on the boy’s uniform, but can’t seem to find one. “I don’t believe we have,” he tries to smile, but it looks more forced than anything else. “Maybe in passing?”

“Yeah...” Sanghyuk watches as the clerk swipes his card, and takes it hesitantly when it’s returned to him. He swallows thickly, just as uncomfortable as the other looks.

“You’re all set,” the other pushes the comic towards Sanghyuk, who takes it quickly as he spins on his heel, ignoring the other’s call of “have a good night” when he begins walking towards the second floor again.

Chanhee’s still bent over his books when Sanghyuk returns, but he must sense something’s wrong when the other drops back down into the seat across from him.

He looks up with raised eyebrows, clearly unhappy about being disrupted again. “What do you want now?”

Sanghyuk can’t bring himself to recount the events. He opens his mouth, but finds himself unable to speak. Chanhee’s eyebrows lower slowly. “Hey, are you alright? You know, you can _tell me everything_ , right?”

He feels like throwing up. But even with Chanhee’s tactical use of his abilities, he can’t say anything. _Tell me everything_. “I don’t know,” he whispers, shaking his head. “I really don’t know.”

Obviously, Chanhee can tell something’s wrong when Sanghyuk doesn’t bend to his will. “Do we need to leave?”

“No, no,” Sanghyuk widens his eyes, “just go back to studying, okay? I’m fine, ignore me.”

Chanhee obliges, but casts worried looks to the other between each question he writes down and answers in his notebook. Sanghyuk tries to forget about the previous experience, throwing open the comic before beginning to read it. He’s lucky, it happened to be a reworked version of the first edition, and he can read it without needing to know anything about the previous books.

Though he tries to distract himself, his mind still strays to the silver haired clerk on the floor above. Why couldn’t he remember him, and why did he get so much anxiety from just the thought of him? Surely it was a coincidence, nothing more than an odd occurrence that wouldn’t bother him again for the rest of his time in the city. That’s what he hopes, that is. That it’s just an instinct thing, warning Sanghyuk that the librarian wasn’t a human he should look to take advantage of.

Sanghyuk kicks his feet as he flips the page of his comic. His shoe knocks against Chanhee’s knee, who immediately looks up and glowers from the contact.

“That better have been an accident,” he grumbles, earning a slow nod from Sanghyuk.

“It was, Chanhee. It was.” He flips the page of his book. Chanhee refuses to look away.

After two minutes of Chanhee not blinking, Sanghyuk finally looks up. “Is there something you need?”

“I’m done studying.”

Incredulously, Sanghyuk motions to the shelves around them. “Well, _fuck_ , kid, go put your shit away then. I’m not your dad, I don’t need to take care of you, do I?”

At the other’s tone, Chanhee lowers his eyebrows and sneers at the older, hoisting his books up in his arms as he leaves to find the shelves they return to. He himself returns a moment later, stooping down to grab his bag. He slugs it over his shoulder, looking to Sanghyuk, who stands slowly from the table as he closes his comic. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The two head for the stairs, and Sanghyuk gasps when he sees the clerk from before on the floor below. He’s immersed in a conversation with one of the female baristas behind the counter, fingers inching closer to an empty coffee mug. Sanghyuk can tell he’s trying to flirt his way into getting a free drink; he played that game daily at the cafe closest to the group’s apartment. “He...”

“What?” Chanhee follows his gaze, whistling quietly when his eyes lock over the silver haired boy. He has no idea that he’s what’s had Sanghyuk on edge, but he knows one thing for certain. “Oh, he’s your type.”

“Yeah, I fucking know, shut up.”

The librarian looks up just as Sanghyuk and Chanhee arrive on the first floor. He immediately has his sights locked on Sanghyuk, and slowly cuts his conversation short as he raises a hand dismissively, walking towards the two at the base of the stairs blindly.

Sanghyuk doesn’t know why until he looks to Chanhee, noticing the other’s glossed over eyes. They appear iridescent, an obvious indicator of the other’s use of his abilities. He flaunted them often, now being no different. They slowly return to normal the moment the stranger begins to come to his senses halfway to the two, his steps abruptly stopping. Chanhee grins at Sanghyuk, who gapes back in return.

“This should cheer you up, right? Have fun, I’ll be waiting in the car.” Chanhee leaves the library quickly before Sanghyuk can say another word, and he supposes he’ll have to turn his attention to the confused boy standing attentively in front of him.

This time, it’s Sanghyuk whose voice cracks when he tries to speak. “Hi,” he whispers, shrinking back in on himself at holding the other’s undivided attention. In this moment, he despises Chanhee.

“Hi,” the boy responds cautiously, taking another step forward. “Is there something you need?”

“I... You were the one to approach me,” Sanghyuk tries nervously, and the statement catches the other off guard. He seems to be confused, realizing that the other was correct.

“I guess I was.” His expression twists into something confused; something nervous. “My name’s Inseong.”

“Sanghyuk.”

Inseong raises his hand, and Sanghyuk takes it gently to shake. Their fingers brush, and it sends a shock up Sanghyuk’s arm that sends him reeling. It seems to do the same for Inseong, who gasps as he yanks his arm away. It wasn’t just a shock, no, it was an explosion, and Sanghyuk realizes that whatever it was inside of him that had caused the fear and anxiety was protecting him.

Something about Inseong wasn’t right, and what had happened when they touched proved it. His hand burns, as if everything underneath his skin is a burning, aching fire that yearns to spread. It seems to be making its way up Sanghyuk’s arm. Inseong stares at Sanghyuk with shock in his eyes, cradling his hand to his chest.

There’s nothing Sanghyuk can say. His eyes dart from Inseong’s eyes to his hand, and he takes a quick step back to create a safer amount of distance between the both of them.

“I need to go,” he whispers, shaking his head. “I...”

He doesn’t finish what he’s saying, just walks briskly towards the exit. His pace doesn’t slow until he’s standing in front of his car, shaking as he opens the door to the driver’s side. Chanhee sits happily in the front seat, oblivious to the scene he’d unknowingly created.

Sanghyuk drives home silently, the memories he’d taken from the girl earlier in the night heavy on his tongue. They leave a sour taste in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it may seem a little odd at first, but i promise that this is one of my favorite fics i've written so far (aside from you should leave, baby and saltwater constellations). thank you so much for reading, i hope you plan on sticking with this fic ♡.   
> -elise


	2. Coming Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; smut and blood mention, nightmares, panic attacks, amnesia

Sanghyuk doesn’t get much sleep that night.

Between Youngbin constantly coming to check in on him and his incessant cleaning of the items in the room the human had touched, Sanghyuk can’t bring himself to lay down. He’s left pacing when everything’s cleaned, the soft smell of a lavender air freshener wafting into the room from where it’s plugged into the wall next to his door.

Who _was_ Inseong?

Sanghyuk bites his lip in thought, mind trailing back slowly over the other. The hair, his eyes, his voice… Every aspect of him, Sanghyuk grew nervous about. And, when he tries to pinpoint _why_ it made him anxious, guilt began to claw at his heart. Guilt, though Sanghyuk had never met this man before in his life. He can’t ignore it, no matter how hard he tries. _All_ he can think of is Inseong.

That is, until his door creaks open. Youngbin gently peeks inside, eyes wide with worry as he looks the younger up and down.

The redhead was the leader of their legion, having brought in each member himself. Sanghyuk had lived with Youngbin and their past legion for as long as he could remember, and met Chanhee when Youngbin brought him back one night. In fact, Chanhee was the reason they had to break away. He didn’t know the details, but Sanghyuk knew it was ugly from how the youngest, only thirteen at the time, was half dead and covered in blood, wrapped in a light blue blanket in Youngbin’s arms when he’d arrived. When the three had left, they met Youngkyun and Jaeyoon, two outcasts who had nowhere else to go. They moved into the city, and kept quiet to avoid suspicion of being demons by the city’s legion.

Sanghyuk had heard rumors about them. That they killed often, and when they didn’t kill, they injected their victim with poison to cause them to become a half-ling. Not fully demon, not fully human. The creatures are erratic, and like to show off their newfound abilities to try and solidify the fact that they’re _something_ , when they don’t belong to the name of demon or human. They’re lost in between, trying desperately to prove that they’re something that they will never fully be. But, as long as they show off, then to themselves, they’re enough.

They’re dangerous; more violent than any form of demon Sanghyuk had come across before. They often weren’t claimed by legions, as they would easily draw the eye of the law when one of their kills became far too messy. They didn’t usually clean up after themselves.

“What’s wrong?” Sanghyuk stops pacing, slowly scuffing his toe against the carpet in his room. He’d scrubbed it just an hour before, and it was still soft and slightly wet from the soap he’d used. He could tell Youngbin’s concern wasn’t with him, as his gaze kept shifting around the room, never landing on a specific object.

“Chanhee’s upset.”

Sanghyuk nods, walking over to his bed. “I’ll take care of it,” he grumbles, sighing as he grabs a pillow. “Nightmares?”

Youngbin nods, stepping out of Sanghyuk’s way as he leaves the room.

Chanhee was plagued with nightmares, often having breakdowns once or twice a month because of them. When he was younger and they’d first bought their apartment, it was almost every night a week that somebody would have to comfort him. Sanghyuk never liked leaving him alone, and would spend the night with him to make sure he didn’t wake up alone again.

He never told the group what his dreams were of, only cried harder when he was questioned about it. He’d say they wouldn’t believe him, or that he was overreacting. It hurt Sanghyuk that the youngest wouldn’t even trust him or Youngbin with it, but he supposed he had his reasons.

Stopping in front of Chanhee’s door, Sanghyuk raises his hand slowly. His knuckle raps against the wood softly, and when he hears a muffled sob from inside he pushes it open and steps inside, closing it behind himself.

“Hey, kid,” Sanghyuk takes a cautious step closer to the bed, where Chanhee’s wrapped himself protectively in his blankets. When he looks to Sanghyuk, the older cringes at how puffy his eyes have become. “Ah, Christ...”

He drops his pillow down on the bed, clambering onto it beside the younger. He spreads his arms and Chanhee immediately shoves himself against his chest, hands clinging tightly to the other as his tears stain Sanghyuk’s shirt.

Sanghyuk doesn’t want to ask him what’s wrong, but he can’t help it when he feels how roughly the other is shaking. “Nightmares?”

Chanhee shakes his head in disagreement. Sanghyuk pries just a bit further. “Are you scared?”

A hesitant nod follows. He hates playing this fucking guessing game, but decides he’ll put up with it for just a few more questions. “What are you scared of?”

Chanhee’s breaths tremble as he releases them, and his voice shakes as he tries to respond. ‘I don’t...”

“You can trust me,” Sanghyuk coos, pulling the other against his chest tighter. Chanhee’s hair tickles his cheek. “What are you scared of?” He repeats the question.

“I don’t want to die.”

Sanghyuk can’t help but smile. It was childish, was all. Chanhee, a high school student, nonetheless a _demon_ , was scared of dying? He’s empathetic, sure, but it was just a bit humorous to him as well. “Why would you be scared of that?” He chuckles, humming as he pulls away to look into the other’s eyes. “I’ll protect you.”

Sniffling, Chanhee stares back at him. “Promise?”

“Of course,” Sanghyuk grins, pulling the other back to him. The blankets slowly become less defensive as Chanhee offers them to Sanghyuk, who attempts to tuck both of them in underneath them. “So will Youngbin and Jaeyoon. Not so much Youngkyun, he’s a bit of a pussy.” Sanghyuk hears the younger stifle a laugh, his sobs slowly dying down the longer Sanghyuk talks. “I’ll always protect you, okay?”

Chanhee nods, and soon his grip on the other’s shirt loosens. Sanghyuk thinks he’s just grown tired of being against him, but soon hears his soft snoring, sighing contentedly. He knows he’s the only one who can calm the younger down so quickly, and almost feels pride at the fact.

Sanghyuk closes his eyes, trying not to let his mind drift back to the librarian that had held his thoughts captive since they’d first made eye contact

* * *

Inseong can’t get his doctor’s voice out of his head. It’s all he can think about, no matter what else he does.

He’d gone after his shift, wanting to know if there was any way to figure out who that man, _Sanghyuk_ , had been to him before he’d lost his memories. Or, if there was an explanation as to why he felt so afraid when the stranger had looked him in the eyes.

_“Your amnesia is irreversible.”_

“Fuck,” he hisses, hair sopping wet and dripping onto the bathroom counter under the mirror. It’s fogged up, droplets of water like sweat slipping down the smooth surface. His fingers grip the linoleum sink; he feels like he’s going to throw up.

He’d had so much hope. _So_ much fucking hope. That his memories would return with time, that he’d finally be able to return to his previous life, have more than just one friend. But, no, why would that happen for _him_? Inseong – the boy who’d survived a four year coma, stemming from when he was twenty until now, his twenty-fifth birthday right around the corner. He’d had a friend, though, apparently from before the ‘accident’, as he called it. Seokwoo, Kim Seokwoo.

He’s the first person Inseong had called after receiving the news, and the only reason he was still awake, now that the clock on his phone ticked past two in the morning. Seokwoo was coming over, possibly with his boyfriend, possibly without. Juho gave Inseong a bad vibe, but, albeit slowly, he’d begun to trust him almost as much as he trusted Seokwoo. The three were an odd trio of friends.

Seokwoo had always been there, with Inseong. He’d been at Inseong’s bedside when he’d woken up, and since then wouldn’t leave him. He does his best to recount their past to Inseong, though he only sees the memory Seokwoo paints for him as a story. It isn’t _him_ , this old self he was before the accident. That was the first Inseong, who was loud and easily excitable, as Seokwoo said. The second Inseong, who he was now, was cold and distant, never settling for anything less than perfect. Because, his second chance should amount to what he had before.

He’d only woken up last year, but he’d built himself a sturdy life in the past year. For the first five months he stayed with Seokwoo, but worked tirelessly and slowly saved enough money to buy himself an apartment. Then he picked up another job, and between both, which were thankfully in the same building, had enough to move from the shitty, three room apartment to one with five rooms; his bedroom, living room, kitchen, guest room, and the bathroom. He was lucky, but empty.

The reason he chose to work in the library for his first job was so he could fill himself with the stories of other people. He had none for himself, so he stole those of what he read and held them close. He’d read a love story first, to try and jog his memory of his first love. The affair only brought him countless migraines, and so he set down the book and never returned to it. But, the thought of love made him nervous, so maybe he was never cut out for it.

Now, alone in his bathroom, he watches his face slowly appear in the mirror from behind the fog that had shrouded it before.

He doesn’t even know who he _is_.

“I hate you,” he mutters at the stranger in the glass, with ringlets of soaking silver hair curling around his ears and neck, “who even _are_ you?”

His second job was part time, at the cafe on the first floor of the library. Apparently, coffee had been his favorite drink before the accident. When Seokwoo told him that, he immediately applied.

The taste of it, though still pleasant to him, brought back no memories. But the pay was nice, and he could start a shift in the cafe after finishing one in the library, so he stayed.

He wasn’t the same Inseong; and there was no returning to who he was before. He’s a stranger to himself, knowing nothing yet _everything_ , with no recollection. Seokwoo’s Inseong was not him.

His front door swings open and he hears his friend call out to him, followed by the crinkling of a paper bag. “Inseong, I know I’m late but I brought dinner!”

Hesitantly, Inseong opens the bathroom door. His shirt hangs loosely off of his collar, shorts dancing against the skin just above his knees. “Hey, Seok’.”

“What’s up?” Seokwoo’s gaze softens at the other’s expression, and he sets the bag down on the kitchen table as he shuts the door behind himself. Inseong shrugs, stopping in front of the other. Seokwoo immediately envelops the other in his arms, folding them tight around him. “You’re so tense, relax a little...”

Inseong wrings his hands together, staring at the floor as the other holds him. “I’ll never remember,” he whispers, eliciting a small, questioning ‘what?’ from the other, who breaks the contact slowly. Seokwoo’s hand cups Inseong’s chin, forcing him to look back up at him.

“What did you say?” He hums, a soft smile on his face. “You’re so quiet, 'Seong...”

“It’s irreversible.”

Seokwoo’s hand drops from Inseong’s face. His expression goes blank, lips falling from their signature, upraised position into a thin line as they’re pursed together. Seokwoo’s eyes stay positioned on the other’s nose as he realizes what he’s said.

It takes a moment for Seokwoo to snap back to reality, but when he does his smile returns; gentle, genuine, comforting. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, cupping the other’s face as he presses his forehead against the other’s. Inseong finds it oddly soothing, closing his eyes to avoid crying. “Everything will be okay, Inseong, okay? It’s okay, we’ll get through it.”

Inseong can feel the sorrow through the other’s fingertips, and hates himself more for knowing that he will never be the same best friend Seokwoo had before.

He wants to cheer the other up somehow, slowly breaking away from him. “Let’s go get tanked.”

“What?” Seokwoo looks alarmed for a second, shifting his eyes down to the bag on the table. “But I got pizza...”

“Oh, fuck the pizza, we’ll eat it later.” Inseong claps his hands together, beginning to walk to his room. Seokwoo catches up to him easily, following right on his heels. “Let’s go get drunk, we both need that right now.”

Seokwoo doesn’t disagree, and waits as Inseong enters his room. He keeps the door open so they can speak easier, as he digs around through his closet to find an outfit. A black tee tucked into ripped jeans; it’s basic but it’s comfortable, and if Inseong got shitfaced, as he planned to, he wouldn’t feel bad if the outfit got hurt in some way. “Invite Juho, I’m sure he’d like it. Guy drinks like a fucking king.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No, not at all,” Inseong pulls off his shirt, replacing it with the other before peeling off his shorts, “it’ll be fun.” He pulls on his jeans, tucking his shirt into them before turning around to look in the mirror next to his bed. Not bad. He cards his fingers through his hair, which had begun to dry, but still hung down in front of his eyes. He’d need to fix it. “He’s fun.”

Seokwoo calls Juho, talking to him for a moment before asking him to meet them at the nearest bar. The other agrees almost instantly; Inseong can hear his cry of joy from where he stands a room away. Seokwoo’s phone isn’t on speaker. Juho is fucking screaming.

When Seokwoo hangs up two minutes later, Inseong is brushing his hair angrily, trying to tear through the knots in the curls. “I hope he’s excited and not being murdered.”

Seokwoo chokes on his laugh, shaking his head. “No, no! He’s excited, he always asks to get drinks with me but now is the only time I’ve ever actually wanted to.” Inseong nods, and awkwardly, Seokwoo continues. “And Juho couldn’t be murdered, he’s too...”

“Too?”

“Too tough,” Seokwoo scrunches his face up in thought, as if remembering something, “and smart. If anything, he’d murder somebody.”

“Oh!” Inseong nods, finally finishing with his hair. “Fun!”

He tries to amp himself up, act more excitable, as the first Inseong was. It obviously makes Seokwoo happier, and that’s all he really wants. Seokwoo was the only positive in his life; keeping him happy was a top priority, as sad as it sounded. And, the longer Inseong thinks about it, the happier he’s feeling when he pretends he is.

He steps out of the room, and Seokwoo cocks his head to the side. “Are you dressing up for somebody?”

“What? No.” Inseong looks down at himself, raising an eyebrow. “ _This_ is dressing up?”

“I mean… Usually you wear sweats and anime t-shirts.”

“Oh, fuck off, Pokemon is great.”

“You literally hate Pokemon.”

“But Pikachu is cute,” Inseong reasons, shaking his head, “duh.”

Seokwoo scoffs incredulously, leading Inseong to the front door. “Whatever you say, Inseong, whatever you say.”

* * *

Inseong waits alone at the bar for Juho and Seokwoo to return from the bathroom, where he’s sure they’re fucking drunkenly inside a tight, uncomfortable stall. He swirls his whiskey around in his glass idly, watching the bartender across the counter from him work on somebody’s order.

He was lucky that they were open until four, which came as a shock to him. It was rare, and practically nobody knew about it, explaining the near empty space behind him and the elbow room on the counter. He was sure it would be more congested if he had come just three hours earlier, though.

“You’re staring, waiting for another drink?”

Inseong’s startled when the bartender’s leaning down in front of him, elbows propped up on the counter in front of himself. “Uh,” he mumbles, entranced by the other’s eyes and honey voice, “no, sorry, just spacing out...”

“Not a problem,” he smiles, pulling up a seat on his end of the bar. “You drinking alone? I thought you came in with someone else...” He leans his cheek on his hand, dimples sinking in as he smiles. “I can keep you company.”

“Oh!” Inseong blushes. “I mean, if you _want_ to… And I did, but I’m pretty sure they’re...” He can’t snitch on them. “I think they left.”

The bartender smirks. “How spacey are you tonight? Can’t even tell if they left...” At Inseong’s shocked expression, he begins laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m just kidding!”

_Rude…_

“My name’s Jaeyoon, the boy extends his hand, an apologetic smile on his face. “I hope I didn’t just ruin my first impression.”

“Inseong,” Inseong responds, gently shaking the other’s hand. “I’m Inseong.”

Jaeyoon grins. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

He isn’t _unattractive_ , not at all. Inseong finds himself taking in the other’ features rather slowly. His soft, brown hair curls naturally around his ears, bangs pushed off to the side. One of them is cutely held to the side with a bobby pin. His eyes are large, doe-like, soft and innocent. Inseong tries not to focus on his lips, but finds himself thinking that they look soft without wanting to. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Before Jaeyoon can say anything else, Seokwoo falls into his seat beside Inseong. His face is red, burning, and his neck is covered in bruises. Juho doesn’t come back with him.

“What happened?” Inseong mumbles, disliking the way that Jaeyoon slips away at the appearance of his friend. “Were you fucking?”

“Yes,” Seokwoo states bluntly, before shaking his head, “ugh, no,” he sighs, before looking up, a confused expression across his face, “kind of?”

“How do you kind of fuck?”

Seokwoo shrugs, guilt crossing his face. Inseong knows there’s something he’s hiding from him. “Don’t know...”

Upon closer inspection, Inseong sees small dots on the inside of the bruises, like each hickey had cut into his skin more than it should have and left angry looking wounds. “Jesus, is he a fucking vampire?” Inseong whispers, pulling the other’s shirt collar down to check out the cuts. They resemble bites that Inseong would expect a monster would leave behind, but he didn’t believe in that sort of thing.

Seokwoo tenses at the words, gaze slowly lifting to Inseong. Inseong smiles, laughing. “Jeez, don’t get defensive, I’m just kidding.”

Relief flashes across Seokwoo’s face. “Oh! Oh, thank God,” he laughs nervously. “Thank God...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!!!  
> Chapter 2! enter; inseong + seokwoo + jaeyoon +...juho? he doesn't show up that much though but still, he's mentioned enough. he counts. i love him. happy birthday juho  
> i love you!! thank you so much for reading :>. i hope you're enjoying this so far, and hope you continue to read and that the plot genuinely makes you curious.  
> ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ please have a good day/night!! remember that i'm always supporting you, no matter what ♡ if you ever feel alone, dm my twitter! i'll be right there to talk to you ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡  
> \- elise


	3. Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; blood mention, potential character death (past and present), very minor smut, violence, physical altercation

As usual, Sanghyuk is the last to wake up.

The TV blares in the living room, just part of Jaeyoon’s daily workout routine. Sometimes, Sanghyuk would join him in lifting weights to the 90s fitness DVD, housed in a dusted, cracked case. Jaeyoon had found it in a thrift shop, and practically _lived_ by the tricks and body building tips the main woman taught.

When Sanghyuk leaves Chanhee’s room, pillow shoved underneath his arm as he brings it back to his room, he catches sight of Youngkyun walking quickly down the hall. Curiously, after Sanghyuk drops his pillow back onto his own bed and checks to make sure his carpet is dry from the previous night’s cleaning, he follows the other back to his room, where the brunette ducks inside quickly when he sees Sanghyuk following him.

Youngkyun stops him at the door, shutting it until there’s only a sliver of space for them to speak through when Sanghyuk comes too close. “What do you want?” Hesitation resides in his voice, fear making his syllables and consonants tremble ever so slightly. If Sanghyuk hadn’t been focused on it, he wouldn’t have heard it.

“Just checking in,” Sanghyuk muses, placing a hand on the door, knowing it would be painfully easy for him to throw it open. After all, Youngkyun was _human_. Youngkyun only trusted Chanhee, as he was the only demon in the house that didn’t toy with him whenever given the chance. It used to be Jaeyoon, until he’d nearly had Youngkyun pour bleach over his favorite black sweatshirt, the human lost in a trance that Jaeyoon’s seduction had brought on. Unsurprisingly, the incubus was meaner than the others, but not by much. Sanghyuk had often invaded the other’s mind, and Youngbin was just scary in general. He didn’t try to be, but… He always had Youngkyun on edge.

Youngkyun hums in acknowledgment. “Well, you checked in! You sure did. Please leave.” He speaks quickly, his entire body pressed against the door as he tries to shut it. Sanghyuk only needs to use one finger to keep it planted firm where it is.

He’s acting suspicious, and Sanghyuk wants to find out why. Though Youngbin was their leader, _he_ was in charge of keeping everybody in check. Youngbin seemed to be afraid of getting on everybody’s bad side, Chanhee’s especially, so he’d made sure that Sanghyuk was on top of it all.

Youngkyun had his own set of issues; stemming from when he’d first run away from home. It was why Sanghyuk kept a closer eye on him than the others, why whenever he smelled smoke or alcohol on the human’s clothes, he was berated with questions until Sanghyuk would either scold him or let him go with a warning. It seemed like once a week that Youngkyun was speaking through the drugs in his veins.

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Sanghyuk pushes on the door with a finger, forcing Youngkyun back, “what are you hiding?”The long haired brunette gasps, desperate in his attempt to keep it closed, but it’s no use. It’s opened anyway, exposing… Nothing. Sanghyuk pouts, having been hoping that he’d have a valid reason to tease Youngkyun further. Nothing serious, just enough for a bit of mild taunting. He enjoyed his reactions, how flustered he became. “You’re… You’re seriously not hiding anything?”

Youngkyun glares up at him, crossing his arms. “No?” From the other side of Youngkyun’s bed, Sanghyuk notices a head of brown hair hiding behind the mattress. Youngkyun realizes, when Sanghyuk raises his eyebrows, that the other is completely in his line of sight. “Yes?”

“Chanhee, what the _fuck_ are you doing home!? You have school!”

The youngest smiles, nervously pulling on the neck of his school’s uniform as he stands up slowly. “I missed my ride...” His bag is laying abandoned in the middle of the room. “And I decided I wanted to ditch?”

“ _No_ , Chanhee, for fuck’s sake...” Sanghyuk feels like a worn-out parent. He rubs his temple roughly with his fingers, trying to soothe what he knows will be an approaching headache from Chanhee’s antics. “Get in the car, I’m driving you.”

“But-” Chanhee tries to argue his point to stay home, but Sanghyuk widens his eyes, crossing his arms as he focuses on the other.

“ _Now_.”

Chanhee knows it’s no use, sliding out of his hiding place.

Youngkyun shrinks away from the ebony haired demon, an attempt to protect himself from a rage that could easily kill him. It wasn’t fully apparent from Sanghyuk’s actions, but it was underlying in his tone; sharp and erratic, ready to strike at any given moment.

Dejectedly, Chanhee reaches down and snatches up his bag, muttering to himself as he leaves the room. He shoves past Sanghyuk, head hung low with shame as he exits the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind himself. Sanghyuk turns his attention to Youngkyun, who takes a nervous step back.

A step forward on Sanghyuk’s part counters the other’s, and they continue the evasive and offensive movements until Youngkyun’s pressed against the wall and Sanghyuk’s hovering above him. Youngkyun focuses on the floor, defiance sleeping in his expression. One of Sanghyuk’s hands cups the human’s chin, forcing him to look up to him. Before he can say anything, Youngkyun speaks up. “It’s his _last day_ before his finals this weekend, in what way would it hurt him if he missed it?”

Sanghyuk’s grip tightens on the other’s skin. It’s not enough to hurt him, maybe enough to cause a slight burst of discomfort for a moment. “You don’t get to make that choice.” He states, tone calm though his eyes show an overlying anger, one that controls his actions. “Youngbin does, and if he wants Chanhee to grow up like a normal fucking kid, we’re letting him.”

“But he isn’t-”

Sanghyuk’s fingers crawl up to the other’s mouth, forcing it shut aggressively. “I know. But _w_ _e_ , we don’t get to decide what he does, okay? I’m not saying I agree or disagree,” Sanghyuk huffs, dropping his hand, “but if Youngbin chooses something we have to listen, okay?”

After a moment of taking in Sanghyuk’s words, Youngkyun nods hesitantly. Sanghyuk continues. “We’re lucky he’s taking care of us like this, we shouldn’t go against him.” His voice comes out softer, less scolding than before. “I’ll be honest, I don’t understand it either. Chanhee can get anything he wants, with or without a degree, but...” Sanghyuk shrugs, allowing his finger to inch back up to the other’s face, gently stroking the area he’d been holding before. “He’s really set on Chanhee graduating next Saturday.”

“I understand,” Youngkyun mumbles, looking down. Sanghyuk nods, bringing his hand up from Youngkyun’s jawline to comb through the other’s hair. “Sorry.”

“He has to stay after school today, but...” Sanghyuk sighs, “You’ll see him again tonight.”

He leaves the younger alone in the room as he walks away, towards the front door. He stops to watch Jaeyoon work out for just a moment, gaze locked on the other’s biceps and his veins, which pop and show through his skin from the effort he puts into lifting his weights. Sanghyuk can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away, only realizing why when he sees Jaeyoon’s eyes glowing a poisonous blue. “Jaeyoon,” he warns, closing his eyes in an attempt to distance himself from the other’s prying abilities, “I need to get Chanhee to school...”

The other sighs, releasing Sanghyuk’s gaze. It feels like an invisible rope is cut from where it had been wrapped around Sanghyuk, holding him fast to the other. When he feels the snap of it, he turns and quickly leaves before the other changes his mind, stepping out of the apartment and into the dimly lit hallway. He follows it down until the elevator, summoning it with a quick press of the button.

It was only seven in the morning; nobody was milling around the complex yet. The elevator doors open right after the button is pressed, and Sanghyuk steps inside and hits the button for the parking garage.

Before the door can shut fully, a hand sticks inside the entrance to stop it. A tall, dark haired boy steps inside the elevator, eyes apologetic as he smiles at Sanghyuk. “Sorry,” he mumbles, checking over the selected button on the panel in front of Sanghyuk. He doesn’t make a move to select another floor, so Sanghyuk shrugs, murmuring a quiet response.

“You’re fine.”

Sanghyuk can’t help but feel self conscious. He himself is disheveled, obviously having just woken up, while the other seems to look like a model without trying. His dark hair is styled up messily, pushed back off of his face to reveal his dark eyes and small features, though strands fall and frame his face beautifully. His lips part around words he ends up keeping to himself, and he turns his attention down to his shoes as he scuffs them against the floor of the elevator.

Sanghyuk can’t help but notice the bruises lining the boy’s skin, paling as he inspects them further.

A demon had fed on the boy not even twelve hours ago, from the look of the wounds. Fresh bites dot his skin, obviously masked by the hickeys the demon had attempted to leave above them.

The boy notices Sanghyuk’s staring, and flushes uncomfortably as he raises a hand to cover the injuries. His face reddens, staring blankly at the wall in front of himself. Sanghyuk can tell he’s trying to come up with something, _anything_ to explain the wounds. “Iron deficiency.” He lies, hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Sanghyuk nods, tearing his gaze away from the other’s neck.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

The elevator hits the bottom floor, the doors sliding open smoothly. They both exit the elevator quickly, almost running from each other in opposite directions. Sanghyuk doesn’t look back, hoping the other doesn’t, either.

How close had the city legion been to them last night? Without even realizing… Sanghyuk can only imagine what would happen if they were found, especially to Youngkyun, and especially surrounded by their kind. They’d take the human in as a pet, and if they all drank blood, would pass him around until he was dead, completely drained. Or, in the worst case scenario, turn him into a half-ling, where he would suffer alone until he ruined his own life.

He hopes that’s not what the stranger is to the other legion, just a pet, and opens his car door quickly.

Chanhee looks up at him from the passenger seat, bent over his cellphone. He looks young in the low light, like he was thirteen again, silence eating away at him. Though, that wasn’t the case for him anymore. “You took so long,” he remarks flatly, setting his phone down so he can cross his arms. His earbuds are jammed in, but no music plays.

Sanghyuk ignores him as he starts driving, focusing solely on the road. Two horrible occurrences in two days; Inseong, and now this obvious claimed human. And, both in such close proximity to him and his group… He has a bad feeling settling deep in his stomach, like a weight that he can’t seem to get over. It lingers, discomfort at just the thought of what could happen to his family physically paining him.

He’d only encountered another claimed human once, when he was with his past legion. It was Youngbin who’d claimed him; a boy with the sun in every single one of his features. His name was Yoo Taeyang. He was young, just around sixteen when it had happened. Youngbin didn’t talk much about him, growing impatient and easily offended when the human was brought up in conversation.Back in their old legion, Sanghyuk had only heard what happened to him through his closed bedroom door; Youngbin’s agonized screams, Taeyang’s tortured sobs… The memory brings tears to Sanghyuk’s eyes, and he blinks them away violently.

The drive to Chanhee’s school is short, and before the car can even roll to a stop Chanhee’s opened the door and vaulted out, bag slung over one of his shoulders haphazardly. He slumps to the side as he carries it, body sinking towards the ground. Sanghyuk stops at the curb, reaching over to shut the other’s door. He stays there, foot pressed down on the brake, until Chanhee steps through the front doors. He wouldn’t put it past the younger to take off into the city once Sanghyuk took his eyes off of him, and wanted him to _know_ that he was being watched until he was locked inside of the building.

Sanghyuk begins driving again, feeling his phone buzz against his thigh after a moment. He reaches down to grab it, gaze flashing down to the screen as he checks the notification.

 **YOUNGBIN** **CALLING**

Sanghyuk answers the call quickly, setting the phone to speaker as he rests the device back down on his legs. “Youngbin,” he starts, pulling to a stop at a red light, “what’s up?”

“ _Did you see him?_ ”

Who Youngbin’s referring to is obvious. “That kid in the elevator?” Sanghyuk bites his lip, leaning back in his seat when the light turns green. Thinking back on the boy sends a stagnant wave of anxiety over him. He’s about two minutes away from the apartment complex, but the traffic seemed to grow dense ahead, and he knew it would take well over five to get back to the garage. “Yeah, I saw him.”

“ _We should take care of that,_ ” Youngbin hums, voice crisp and clear over the mic. “ _I saw you two leaving when I got back from..._ ” H is voice dies off, but Sanghyuk knows he’d been hunting in the earlier hours of the morning. He’d probably killed and had to lie low for a few hours, only able to return once he knew it was safe to. “ _You know. We can’t have him bringing in any unwanted guests, do we?_ ”

“No, no Youngbin, no sir.” Sanghyuk mumbles, looking to the buildings in front of him. The library stretches up high into the sky, and Sanghyuk unconsciously pulls to the side of the road as soon as he can, watching the building as if it’ll vanish if he takes his gaze off of it. “I’ll get Jaeyoon to-”

“ _I want you to do it._ ”

“What?” The other’s sharp tone snaps Sanghyuk out of the daze he’d been in since he saw the building. “Youngbin, no, I’ve never killed before! Jaeyoon has, he’ll be okay with it.”

Youngbin sighs, static exploding over the other end of the call. “ _Grow up._ ”

“No!”

“ _Fine, then_ I’ll _kill him._ ”

Sanghyuk huffs when Youngbin ends the call, and he leaves the device in the car as he steps out of it. He ends up in the path of another car, whose driver slams on the brake and lays on the horn when Sanghyuk disrupts them. He shrugs, apologizing with a soft wave as he steps out of their way, shutting his door.

The library doors slam shut loudly behind him, as if sealing him inside his fate.

His steps are silent until they hit the third floor, where they become heavy and nervous. Sanghyuk can see silver hair dance behind a shelf, and he hesitantly walks over. His pulse beats loudly in his ears, blocking out almost every other sound in the room. “Excuse me?” He murmurs, causing the clerk to gasp, shocked from the sudden voice next to him.

“Oh! I didn’t see you,” Inseong says apologetically, not turning to see who’s talking to him until he shelves the book that resides in his hands. When he looks, he stills, meeting the other’s eyes. A subdued panic rises in him, but he plays things off as if he’s completely calm. “Sanghyuk… Right?”

Sanghyuk nods, swallowing thickly. “I think… I think I know you.” He decides to just rip off the bandage, wanting everything to be over with instantly. If the other thought he was crazy, then so be it.

Inseong’s eyes widen. There’s something unsure in the other’s voice; he asks Sanghyuk to elaborate.

“I can’t explain it,” Sanghyuk murmurs, leaning against the shelving as he watches Inseong, “but you’re too familiar to me to be a stranger. I don’t remember you, but...”

“But you feel it,” Inseong finishes, causing Sanghyuk’s eyes to widen. The boy finished his sentence perfectly, his words wrapping around the end of Sanghyuk’s easily. “I do, too.”

Before Sanghyuk can start, Inseong continues. “I’m an amnesiac; and I feel like I knew you from before… I lost it all.”

“Wait, really? How much do you-” Inseong waves a hand, stopping Sanghyuk from speaking. He reaches upwards, grabbing a book off of the top shelf. Sanghyuk notes he wouldn’t have been able to reach it himself, and suddenly realizes how short he is compared to the other. “This one?”

Sanghyuk follows Inseong to the checkout counter when the other starts walking away. “It’ll be due back in a week, okay?” Inseong hums. Sanghyuk nods, watching Inseong pull out a drawer on his side of the counter, rifling around before pulling out a package of sticky notes. “I’ll write you a note so you remember...” He’s completely confused, but Inseong has purpose in his movements, and so Sanghyuk trusts that he knows what he’s doing.

He watches the other write out a small message, followed by his phone number. Inseong slides it over to Sanghyuk, a panicked smile washing over his face. “Don’t be late, okay?”

Inseong walks off before Sanghyuk can question him further, leaving the demon confused until he looks down to the note.

_Manager watching, can’t talk about that without risk of being fired. Long story._

_Text_ _me tonight. Not trying to hook up._

_XXX-XXXX-XXXX_

* * *

When Sanghyuk recounts the events at the library to Youngbin, he’s forbidden from reaching out to Inseong. At first, Youngbin isn’t angry, just states the fact that he’s refusing to allow Sanghyuk to contact Inseong. He only grows angry when Sanghyuk begins to argue.

“It’s for your own safety,” Youngbin snarls, “what the _fuck_ happened to laying low?”

“Youngbin,” Sanghyuk stresses, sitting across from him at the table, “I _know_ him. And, what, I’m not allowed to have _friends_?”

The redhead slams a fist down on the table, causing the wood to creak under the impact of his fist. “If you knew him, then you’d remember him! What the hell do you mean, you _know_ him?” His words begin to fold evenly into each other, and he speaks so quickly that Sanghyuk can barely understand him.

“I… I don’t know,” Sanghyuk whispers, lowering his gaze to the table. Anxiety swells in his chest, wrapping around his heart and mind as he tries to come up with an answer for the other. He can feel the other’s anger towards him burning from across the table. “I can’t explain it.” He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong; Inseong was _human_. Painfully flawed, and painfully human.

Youngbin scoffs, crossing his arms and legs as he leans back in his seat. “Bullshit. He’s probably claimed, and can sense that you’re a demon. You ever think of that? Now, what if you text him? What happens then?” Sanghyuk hates the way that he could easily be correct, and that it’s likely he’s being tricked into possibly exposing his makeshift family to the claimed human who’d given him his number. The redhead sighs, bringing his palm down against the table. Again, the wood creaks, threatening to splinter and crack with the next blow it takes from the demon. “I’ll tell you what happens.” With each sentence, Youngbin leans forward further, until he’s leaning fully across the table and he’s speaking directly into Sanghyuk’s face. His words come out slowly, he clearly thinks over each one, tasting it before he says it. He speaks as if he’s talking to a child. “First, he tells his master that he’s in contact with an opposing legion. They get curious, and after he introduces you to one of them, they start following you. After a few days, they know where we live. Chanhee’s at school one day, I’m hunting, Jaeyoon’s at work, and you’re probably off with that human. They know our entire routine. And, one day, they come here when Youngkyun’s alone.” It’s obvious what comes next.

Sanghyuk feels Youngbin’s rage rising through his skin, burning Sanghyuk’s own at how close they are to each other, the other’s anger seeping out of him. He lowers his head further in shame, but Youngbin grabs his face just as he’d done to Youngkyun earlier that morning, forcing him to look back up. “Now, they can sense that there’s no _demon_ in the apartment. Naturally, t hey invade, find Youngkyun upstairs calling one of us for help. They take him, and if they don’t kill him on the spot, they use him as a bargaining chip for us. We have _nothing_ to give them in return, nothing that they’d want, anyway.”

Youngbin’s gaze is piercing, striking through Sanghyuk’s painfully. “They start tracking us, taking us out one by one. First me, because without a leader the rest of you are lost; chickens with their heads cut off. Then they work their way down, oldest to youngest, so they can enjoy it all further when they finally get to the scared, little boy who’s left. Who knows if he’s even graduated at that point?” He makes sure to press the last point hard, especially when he hears the front door open.

Tears build up in Sanghyuk’s eyes at the story the other has horribly written for him, at the points he’s laid out flatly in front of his face. Youngbin doesn’t stop, though, not even when Chanhee is screaming for him to knock it off from where he stands in the doorway, just arriving home to catch the other’s past few sentences. “What happens next, Sanghyuk!?” Youngbin raises his voice, shouting in the other’s face. His voice leaves Sanghyuk’s ears ringing. Sanghyuk’s tears begin to fall, and Youngbin’s fist comes down onto the table in front of him, finally breaking through the wood. One hand still remains on Sanghyuk’s face, grip painful on the other’s skin. “ _Answer me!_ ” He screams, fingers clenching the soft skin underneath them harder.

“Ch-Chanhee,” Sanghyuk gasps, hating how weak he looks in front of the youngest. His gaze darts to him, standing in the doorway, shaking as he watches the exchange between his two friends.

Sanghyuk can’t get another word out, choking on his own sob. Youngbin laughs coldly, dragging Sanghyuk upwards until he’s bent over the table, face planted in the wood, forced to look only at Chanhee. His cheek rubs against the cracking wood roughly. Youngbin holds his head down with one hand, and he presses Sanghyuk’s wrists against his back with the other.

“Tell him, Sanghyuk,” Youngbin hums, the calm tone in his voice more terrifying than the anger that had resided in it before, “tell Chanhee what happens to him after you text your _precious_ little Inseong back.”

“Youngbin, stop it!” Chanhee shrieks, dropping his bag onto the kitchen tiles. “Fucking stop!” His bag opens when it connects with the floor, books and pencils falling out of it, sliding and rolling across the floor. He doesn’t care, more focused on the other’s ever tightening gripping and shoving on Sanghyuk’s skin.

“You shut your fucking _mouth_ ,” Youngbin hisses back, eyes wild as he stares down the boy . Youngbin cracks his neck to the side, and at the action the door, that had been wide open before, slams shut and locks. Chanhee backs up into it, having planned on running if not for the sudden movement that blocked off his only exit. “Come on, Sanghyuk. Don’t be shy,” he raises his voice over the other’s sobs, his tone crazy as he continues, shaking the younger . “ _Tell him_ _what happens_.”

“Chanhee dies,” Sanghyuk gasps finally, choking on his tears. The words must bring back Chanhee’s worries from the night before, as his lips tremble and he stiffens like a board. Sanghyuk can’t say anything else, can’t get another word out through the sobs that rack his body. He only watches as Chanhee unlocks the door quickly and throws it open, running out of the apartment. He isn’t stopped, and he disappears down the hall. Faintly, the slamming of the elevator door can be dimly heard over Sanghyuk’s cries.

Youngbin finally releases Sanghyuk, panting, raking his fingers through his hair in aggrevation. He slams the door again with a flick of his wrist. “Give me your phone.”

Obliging, Sanghyuk stands up shakily and grabs his phone from his pocket, sliding the device across the table. Youngbin takes it, pushing it into his jacket sleeve. He looks calm, as if moments before he hadn’t been practically foaming at the mouth, screaming like a war general in the other’s face, forcing him to terrify their friend into running away. The only tell that he’d been upset was his cheeks, red from yelling, and his hair, disheveled and clearly messed up from what’s usually a clean style.

“Now get out of my face.”

Sanghyuk keeps his eyes on the floor, walking to his room. The note from Inseong feels heavy in his pocket, and he drops it into the first trashcan he sees. He wouldn’t _ever_ endanger Chanhee like that. Never Chanhee. His promise hangs above his head like a dark cloud. _I’ll always protect you_.

He knows the other ran to Jaeyoon to save him, knows that the older will allow him access into the back room of the bar. It had happened before, when Youngbin had given Youngkyun nearly the same treatment he’d given Sanghyuk, back when he’d posted a picture online of him and Jaeyoon; wherein the mirror behind them Jaeyoon's reflection held red eyes. It was a telltale sign that he was a demon, that his reflection on any surface would hold clear, glowing red eyes.

It explained why he felt so much anxiety around Inseong, Sanghyuk supposes. It was his instincts, warning him that the librarian was a link to the legion he’d been silently hiding from. He couldn’t be mad at Youngbin, he was only protecting his family. His methods were harsh, but it’s what kept them alive. Sanghyuk feels that if he analyzes the previous situation rather than focus on what was said, he’d be less terrified of what had occurred.

He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall. Inseong wouldn’t cross his mind again, he promises himself that solemnly in the darkness of his bedroom.

He wouldn’t be the downfall of his family.

* * *

“I know Jaeyoon.”

Chanhee stands in front of the security guards in the front of the bar, still shaking under his uniform. He hadn’t had the time to change after finally arriving home, and was clearly out of place in a high school uniform at a hole-in-the-wall bar. The line behind him seems to stretch on infinitely, the result of a beautiful Friday night like tonight was. The weather is good, hot and inviting, and the sky is void of any clouds. Even through the smog of the city, stars are visible kissing the skyscrapers and buildings that stretch up to them.

The guards whisper to each other for a moment, before one pulls out his phone. He dials a number, and two rings later Chanhee can hear Jaeyoon’s voice cut through the white noise like a knife. “ _What_?”

“We have a...” The guard on the phone raises his eyebrow, and Chanhee gives him his name, “A Kang Chanhee out here, saying he-”

“ _Let him in.”_

The call ends, and hesitantly, the minor is let inside. Chanhee races to the bar, and Jaeyoon sets down the drink he’s making to meet him halfway, protectively taking the other behind the counter with him. “You’re safe,” he whispers, picking up the glass he was working on before before handing it to another bartender behind him. “I’m going on break.”

Jaeyoon walks away with Chanhee to the sound of protest behind him, to the calls that he was a jackass for leaving the two bartenders on shift with him at such a busy time. Chanhee’s fingers wrap around Jaeyoon’s, and the older looks down at their hands questioningly before copying Chanhee’s actions. He leads the younger to the break room, and flicks the lights on when they enter. He shuts the door behind them, releasing the other as he walks over to the couch.

“Did they start fighting?” Jaeyoon hums, following Chanhee to the couch. He sits down next to the boy, who had immediately curled up on his side to hide his face in his knees. He nods in response; Jaeyoon continues. “Youngkyun and Youngbin?” Chanhee shakes his head. “No? Huh. _Sanghyuk_ and Youngbin?” He nods. “Assholes… What about?”

“I don’t know,” Chanhee mumbles, “texting somebody… Me dying.”

Jaeyoon huffs, bringing a hand down to the other’s knee. “You’re not gonna die, Chanhee.”

“But-”

“You _aren’t_ dying. Not on my watch, okay?” Jaeyoon glares at Chanhee, but they both know where his anger is directed. “You’re safe. _Fuck_ , you have finals tomorrow… This is so much stress, I’m sorry,” Jaeyoon sighs, leaning forward. He rests his elbows on his knees and runs his fingers through his hair. “Get some sleep for now, I’ll get Youngkyun to come and walk you home.” Chanhee nods, thanking Jaeyoon quietly.

His eyes are clouded with worry. Jaeyoon feels terrible that he can’t help him further. “Do you want something to eat?” He mumbles, turning to look at Chanhee. “Something to drink?”

“I’m okay...” Chanhee sighs, hiding in his knees again. Jaeyoon stands, moving to crouch next to Chanhee. He kisses the top of his head softly, fingers carding reassuringly through the boy’s hair. “Thanks though.”

“Don’t thank me, kid. Text me if you need anything, I’ll come and get you when Youngkyun’s here.”

Jaeyoon leaves, heart heavy for the other as he walks back to the front. The rush has seemed to die down, though the bar was packed. Loud, excited music pumps through the speakers and makes the floor vibrate with the power of the bass, and though this would usually make Jaeyoon happy, he’s silent as he takes his position behind the counter again. He hopes it’s quiet enough for Chanhee to get enough rest, and worries about his finals the next morning. He and Chanhee weren’t as close as the younger was with the other demons in the home, but he still cared for the boy just as much as they did.

The laughter of a group near the bar grabs his attention, and Jaeyoon’s eyes fall on the same silver haired boy from the night before. His swipes his tongue across his lips as he begins to walk over, but he stops at the sight of the two next to him. He’d been looking forward to a quick fuck, strictly to be a stress reliever, before noticing his friends.

An obvious claimed human has an arm wrapped snugly around Inseong’s waist, fresh bites dotting the skin on his neck. In front of them stands a boy with long limbs and dark, alluring eyes. His hair is darker than the soft eyes underneath his bangs, and it’s pushed back, framing his face wonderfully. His hands are shoved in his jean’s pockets, eyes scanning the two in front of him happily. Jaeyoon turns his gaze away from them, beginning to make a drink tactfully close to the trio, listening in on their conversation.

“He never texted me back.” That was Inseong, Jaeyoon remembers his voice clearly from the night before. He finds it infatuating, wants to lay his spell thickly on the other and entrance him into spending just _one_ night with him, wrapped under satin sheets that rivaled how smooth Inseong’s voice is. “But it’s whatever, I guess. I really thought that… You know, I _knew_ him.”

“That sucks,” his friend remarks. Jaeyoon flashes his gaze up to take note that it’s the other human who’s speaking. “That’s why you wanted to come out again? You’ve never liked getting drunk before...”

“Yeah,” Inseong hums, “that’s part of it.”

“And what’s the other part?”

That was the demon. His voice is deep, just as captivating as his eyes. Jaeyoon bites back a small cry when he feels electricity crackle in between the other demon and himself, the bitter alert that both of them would receive when another of their kind was around. Jaeyoon hears him gasp, and tries to seem unaffected as he reaches down to grab a rag from underneath the counter. While he’s crouched down, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and sends a quick text to Youngkyun.

**ME: need you to come pick up chanhee, the others started fighting and it scared him into coming to the bar**

It doesn’t take long for Youngkyun to respond.

**KYUN: I’m on my way now. I wasn’t home, I had no idea.**

**ME: where have you been**

**KYUN: Out with a friend, I was on my way home but I’ll head there first. Ten minutes; can you slip me a whiskey? I’ll give you 20.**

**ME: generous~ I will, but be careful, there’s another demon in here with me and I don’t think he’ll take too kindly to me and chanhee when he realizes we’re both… X___X**

**KYUN: Oh, fuck. Make that two whiskeys and I’ll come IN and get him.**

**ME: that’s dangerous, youngbin would actually kill me if I let you so close to him, ESPECIALLY with chanhee**

**KYUN:** **I have a knife lol. I’m capable of defending us**

**ME: against a demon?**

**KYUN: .**

**KYUN: I can handle it.**

**ME: i’ll keep an eye on you**

When Jaeyoon stands back up with the rag, he feels somebody’s gaze on him. It’s sharp, lethal. He knows if he turns to look, he’ll be fucked, but he does anyway.

Why is he not surprised when the demon from before is alone, leaning against the counter idly? “Hey,” he hums, eyeing up the bartender, “can I order from you?”

“Yeah,” Jaeyoon nods, acting nonchalant as he flashes the other a smile, “what are you looking to get?” He leans forward a bit, putting on the charm in an attempt to draw the other’s attention away from _what he is_ and towards _what he can do_. “We have a menu here,” Jaeyoon bends down to grab one from the bottom shelf of the counter. When he comes back up, he smirks when he realizes that the other had fallen for his tricks too easily, the demon’s eyes still latched onto his hips. He blinks, staring back up at Jaeyoon with a shocked expression when the incubus breaks off his charm. “Are you looking for drinks, or..?” Jaeyoon pushes the menu gently towards him. He panics, wanting to keep the other entranced to avoid him possibly focusing on his spark.

Of course, the spark was all he could describe it as. Like a match lighting, the air between two demons would explode when each got close enough to each other. Only they could feel it, and only they would react to it. And, of course, there would be a physical spark as well. The first touch is always painful, a warning to each to stay away from the other. Jaeyoon prays that the other won’t catch him.

Jaeyoon tries to charm the other, hand still resting on the menu. The brunette blinks innocently, smiling, to which the other raises a curious eyebrow. Jaeyoon stiffens when the demon throws his hand over his nonchalantly, and tears his hand away when he feels a white, burning heat blossom between their fingers. The other watches Jaeyoon’s hand pull away, laughing quietly.

The boy slowly looks up from where his hand lays on the counter, smirking as his eyes lock against Jaeyoon’s. The incubus tries to take a step back, but he’s frozen with fear. “You,” the demon laughs, standing up to his full height slowly, “I want you.” He’s taller than Jaeyoon, but not by much. It’s enough to intimidate the incubus, though.

“What… What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb,” the other purrs, narrowing his eyes, “you know you’re in _my_ territory, hm m ? This is _my_ home, and you’re trespassing.”

 _Fuck_. Jaeyoon not only got caught by the enemy legion, but from what he could assume from the other’s claiming of the city, he was staring into the face of the leader. He continues, knowing Jaeyoon won’t respond. “Playing with me like that,” he points to the other’s waist, “only proved to me that you had abilities, sweetheart. And now I’ve got you.” His laugh is like ice, but it ignites a fire inside of Jaeyoon. “Not too smart of you, flaunting yourself like that… Were you trying to show off?”

“You don’t have anything,” Jaeyoon challenges the other’s statement, taking a step forward. He decides to ignore the ‘flaunting’ accusation; he thought he was being clever with that, and didn’t want to give the other the satisfaction of calling him out. The other is pleasantly surprised at the other’s sudden confidence.

He licks his lips, eyeing up the other. “Are you in a legion or are you an outcast? I _know_ you’re not a half-ling; incubus, right?”

Jaeyoon knows the trick. Whatever he answers with, the other will know he’s in another group. If he responds with outcast, the other will question him until he can’t lie anymore, and he’s forced to confess. He answers by avoiding answering. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Oh,” he grins, “don’t be like that...” He reaches forward across the counter, hand wrapping around Jaeyoon’s wrist. “Tell you what; how about you let me feed on you for a little while, or I kill that kid in the back room?”

A chill runs down Jaeyoon’s spine. “What..?”

“I saw you take him into the back.” The other pouts. “I assume you’re together? Either a duo or part of something bigger… I’d like to know.”

“I...”

“You have two choices.” He cuts Jaeyoon off, placing his palms down on the counter. “You know which I’d go with, if I were you.”

Jaeyoon watches him. “Where are your friends?”

“They left. What’s your choice?”

Jaeyoon imagines himself lunging over the counter and making a break for the door, but knows that Chanhee would suffer from that choice. He sighs, slowly slipping out from behind the counter. The leader’s eyes light up happily as Jaeyoon guides him to the bathroom. Jaeyoon opens the door, and when he checks to make sure nobody else is inside, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lanyard for the building. He was the shift manager for the night, so he was the only one who had access to the keys. He locks the bathroom door, slowly turning towards the other.

The other’s hands slowly wrap around Jaeyoon’s hips, his lips parting when the brunette pulls his shirt up. “It’ll look unprofessional if you bite my neck...” Jaeyoon explains sadly, knowing that there’s no way away from the other’s fangs. He’s ashamed, knowing that a demon allowing another to feed on them wasn’t for the blood, it was for the humiliation.

The other hums, hands sliding down from Jaeyoon’s hips to the back of his thighs, slowly lifting him up. He easily carries him to the sinks on the other side of the room, sitting him on the edge of one. Jaeyoon tenses when he feels the other’s lips brush against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut as he prepares himself for the other to tear a hole through him.

He feels the man kiss him, softly, on the skin above his heart. Jaeyoon cracks an eye open in confusion, looking down just as his fangs sink into the skin and begin digging down into his flesh. Jaeyoon cries out, hands on the edge of the sink tightening, trying not to scream as the other’s teeth inch closer to his heart. It wouldn’t kill him, but it hurt like it would. “Fuck!”

The other’s hands fall onto Jaeyoon’s thighs again, but this time they clamber for his belt, undoing it hastily. Jaeyoon allows him to pull it off, knowing that there was no stopping him now that he’d drank his blood. It was just as intoxicating as his charm was, just as venomous. Jaeyoon leans back, feeling the demon in front of him wrestle to pull his jeans off after his belt’s undone and on the floor. From inside them, his phone starts ringing.

They ignore it. Jaeyoon’s boxers are the last clothing article to come off.

“You...” The other murmurs, lips returning to the open wound on Jaeyoon’s chest as his hands begin to trail down to his thighs. Jaeyoon feels tears spring to his eyes from the pain of the other’s teeth tearing through him, biting back his sobs when there’s a hand wrapped firmly around his dick. He pulls away, looking up to Jaeyoon. “Say my name.”

“I don’t fucking know what it is,” Jaeyoon hisses, raising his eyebrow.

The other shrugs, returning his lips to the opened wound on Jaeyoon’s chest. He bites down harder, more forcefully, keeping one hand between Jaeyoon’s legs while the other rises to his chest, stroking the edges of the wound until it’s coated in blood. Jaeyoon watches in discomfort as his finger finally leaves the wound, shooting up to his throat.

Jaeyoon feels him writing on his neck, feels character after character etch itself onto his skin with his own _blood_ . The other chuckles when it’s finally done, and with the remaining blood on his fingers, draws a crude heart. Jaeyoon doesn’t need to turn and look in the mirror to know what it says, he’d felt it all painfully, as if it were being carved into him. **Juho.**

“Come on, pick up...”

Youngkyun stands in front of the bar, looking pleadingly to the guards that refused to let him inside. “ _Please_ ,” he begs, “I’m just here for Chanhee, I swear I’m leaving right after I get him.”

The line had died down at this point, the only person besides Youngkyun being somebody obviously too drunk already to allow inside. She sways on the balls of her feet, the stench of alcohol wafting around her heavily. She mumbles angrily at the guards, but she’s just ignored. She would leave eventually.

“I’ll escort you,” one guard mumbles, standing up from where he’d been leaning against the wall before, “but be quick.”

“Yes, of course!” Youngkyun nods, following him inside, “thank you _so_ much.” He only earns a grunt in response, but it’s enough for him. They walk through the crowd to the counter, and the guard begins to question the bartenders as to where Jaeyoon is.

A blonde shrugs, looking around. “I haven’t seen him for a while, he probably dipped.” He apologizes for not knowing before going back to his order, and so the guard escorts Youngkyun into the back. He waits by the entrance to the break room as Youngkyun steps inside, curiously wandering around until he closes in on the room Chanhee’s in.

“Chanhee?” The brunette calls, hearing movement from the break room. He walks inside, finding the other sitting up slowly. He sighs in relief, walking over to the other. “Hey, bud… Let’s go home, yeah?”

Chanhee doesn’t answer him, just allows him to hold his hand as they exit the building. When they’re finally away from the bar, the demon crumbles against Youngkyun’s side, whimpering. “I don’t want to go back...”

“Sleep in my room tonight,” Youngkyun commands, to which Chanhee nods, “I’ll walk you to school tomorrow, too. Try not to worry about _them_ , okay? Worry about your finals.” Chanhee whines out a soft response.

“That doesn’t help...”

Youngkyun can’t help but laugh at the other’s pouting. “Ah, right, sorry.” He throws an arm around Chanhee’s shoulders, humming quietly to himself as he leads them home. “I’m sure they’re sleeping by now, anyway, so we’ll be able to get in undetected.”

Chanhee nods, looking around. The streets are deserted, void of anybody except for the two walking home. He moves closer to Youngkyun nervously, biting his lip. “It’s so quiet...”

“It’s peaceful,” Youngkyun agrees calmly, trying to soothe the other’s nerves. “Just relax, the apartment’s right up ahead.”

Chanhee nods, looking at the ground for the rest of the walk. He focuses on the pavement and Youngkyun’s arm weighing down his shoulder, feeling comforted by the company.

When they get back to the apartment, Chanhee hesitates before opening the front door. Youngkyun ends up doing it for him, taking a deep breath before leading the both of them inside. Youngbin looks up at them from where he’s seated at the table. When Youngkyun sees the whiskey in front of him, he remembers what Jaeyoon had promised him, and angrily takes the leader’s drink. He owed him for bringing Chanhee back in one piece.

Youngbin doesn’t fight him, just allows him to take the alcohol. Chanhee tries to slip by undetected, but Youngbin reaches out and grabs his wrist. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Chanhee tries to pull away, successful on the first try. He shoves his hands into his pockets, shaking like a leaf in front of the other. “Is there something you need?”

The alcohol’s tinted Youngbin’s cheeks red. “You know I’m just trying to protect you… Right?”

“Yeah,” Chanhee lies, looking to the ground. “I know. I have finals, I need to go to bed.”

“Oh, right,” Youngbin watches Chanhee walk away, calling after him, “goodnight!”

He’s ignored by the younger, who finds solace when he curls up against Youngkyun’s side. The brunette sits up on his laptop, streaming some TV show as he drinks what’s left of Youngbin’s whiskey. Chanhee watches with him for a moment, before the exhaustion sets in and he begins to fall asleep.

“Fuck!”

Jaeyoon gasps as Juho bites into him again, this time on the skin on the inside of his thigh. He doesn’t speak, just sucks on the wound he’s created as one of his hands toys with Jaeyoon. He pulls away, blood trickling down his chin as he moves to a new spot. Jaeyoon tries not to look down, but does, shaking with fear when he realizes that the wound is completely void of any blood, his leg slowly becoming numb as it’s already pale.

He won’t die from blood loss, but he’ll become weak, and he fears that’s just what the other wants.

When the demon goes for Jaeyoon’s neck, he finally snaps. He kicks him backwards and lunges off of the sink, panicking as the other struggles to stand back up. He’s drunk off of Jaeyoon’s blood; he sways on his feet, anger shimmering in his dark eyes. “You...”

Jaeyoon shoves him back down, racing to find his phone in his jeans pocket. He _had_ to warn them. There was no way he could get away at this point, as now that the other had acquired a taste for his blood, he could be easily tracked. Juho would be able to close his eyes and, with enough concentration, find out exactly which direction Jaeyoon was in. A compass controlled by Jaeyoon’s blood, where north was set straight to his heart.

Jaeyoon could never go home.

**ME: DONT LOOK FOR ME**

**YOUNGBIN: ..?**

**KYUN: what’s going on..? where are you?**

The demon stands behind Jaeyoon, hands wrapping tightly around the other. His fingers find the first spot he’d bitten into, and he presses down hard. Jaeyoon collapses to his knees, screaming in agony. The other follows his down, before he’s kicked away once again.

**ME: they found me**

**ME: I got caught. Im breaking my phone after I send these so they cant track you**

**ME: im sorry I let you all down**

**YOUNGBIN: please tell me you’re joking**

**ME: iknow we havent knowwn each otherb for thart lng**

Jaeyoon struggles to keep the other off of him as he sends his final messages to his friends, no, his _family_ , fingers trembling as he writes his goodbyes. The other was going for his throat; he was done for.

**ME: but I love you alllso much**

**ME: uguysg are my gfamilyt**

**ME: ivleo you**

He slams the device against the ground, repeatedly, until the screen is falling out in glassy clumps on the dirty bathroom floor. He watches the SIM card fly out of it, and he grabs it, snapping it in half between his fingers. His other hand holds the other demon at bay, who had been reaching for the device the moment Jaeyoon pulled it out.

“You will _never_ find him.”

The leader knew about Chanhee, but he didn’t know about the others. Jaeyoon would keep it that way until he took his last breath. “You will _never_ fucking find him.”

Jaeyoon’s hand is shoved to the side, and the last thing he feels before his body goes numb is the other’s teeth sinking into his throat.

“We need to help him,” Youngkyun states, standing at one end of the table.

Youngbin shakes his head, biting the nail of his thumb as he thinks. “We can’t, that endangers all of us.”

Sanghyuk can’t help but feel that this is his fault; that by visiting Inseong again, he’d killed one of his best friends. The words _I’m sorry_ die on his tongue, parting his lips in the process. What would ‘I’m sorry’ do? It wasn’t going to bring back Jaeyoon. Not now, not ever. Jaeyoon was gone and to Sanghyuk, it’s all _his_ fault.

“I agree with Youngkyun,” Chanhee whispers, earning the attention of the others at the table. “We need to rescue Jaeyoon.”

Youngbin shakes his head. “We will be _slaughtered,_ guys.”

Silence falls over the group like a blanket. Youngbin looks up calmly, letting out a shaky breath as he closes his eyes. “I’ll go. Alone.”

“What? _No_ ,” Youngkyun shakes his head, “that is a horrible, horrible plan.”

“I can bargain with him.” Youngbin’s gaze flits over Chanhee. “I have my ways. I have something he might want.”

Chanhee seems discomforted at the other’s sudden staring, and steps closer to Youngkyun, who immediately pushes him behind himself. “I don’t like that look on your face,” Youngkyun mutters, crossing his arms. “You are _not_ going alone.”

Sanghyuk nods, but stills as Youngbin begins to speak. “Youngkyun, I appreciate it, I really do, but… You’re a human, kid, and you can’t help with this one.” He looks to Chanhee. “And, you have a life outside of this, I can’t drag you into this either. If I go, you still have Sanghyuk if something goes wrong. If _you_ go, there’s a very low chance you’d come back with us. I can’t let that happen, as your friend and your leader.” He takes a slow breath, trying to ignore the hurt on the others’ faces. “I know what happened earlier scared everyone, and you’re probably not fond of me right now. Just, know that I’m always thinking of you, okay? I just want to protect you all.” He looks around the group, and his gaze lingers on Sanghyuk, holding eye contact with him. He refuses to break it. There’s something else he wants to say, but he shakes his head slowly, holding them back. “I’ll come back to you.”

He begins to walk away from the group, pausing by the front door to put his shoes on. He’d made sure he’d taken just a bit of everybody’s blood when they moved in, just enough so that he’d be able to track them in case a situation such as this arose. Youngbin closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them once again. There’s an orange glint around his pupils, flashing each time he blinks.

Chanhee is the first to react, trying to run to the other to stop him from leaving. Sanghyuk reaches forward and grabs him, yanking him back towards himself. Chanhee struggles, but it’s no use, and slowly stops trying to get away once he realizes it. Sanghyuk looks to Youngkyun, eyes pleading. “Watch Chanhee tonight, okay?”

“Where are you going?” Youngkyun whispers, the sound of the front door shutting painfully echoing throughout the apartment. There’s fear prominent in Youngkyun’s eyes. “You’re not leaving… Right?”

“No, of course not.” Sanghyuk lets go of Chanhee, acting as if he isn’t even there. The brunette looks expectantly to the front door, his spirits collapsing when he doesn’t see Youngbin still standing there. Sanghyuk figures that to him, currently, their leader is already as good as dead. “I need to make sure Youngbin comes home. _With_ Jaeyoon. I need _you_ to make sure he gets enough sleep, and that he gets a ride to school tomorrow. He’s still taking his finals.”

Chanhee finally snaps back to Sanghyuk, turning towards him. “ _How_ am I supposed to focus when everyone’s leaving us!? The tests aren’t important!”

He’s ignored. Youngkyun nods. “I promise.”

When Youngkyun offers his hand to Chanhee, the younger slaps it away. There’s panic in his eyes, and his breathing seems to come out erratically. “We’re all going to die,” he whispers, trembling, “Jaeyoon’s dead, Youngbin’s dead…” He looks up to the other’s, tears springing to his eyes, “and we’re all _next_ . And all you two are worried about is some stupid fucking _tests_.”

Sanghyuk shakes his head. “Chanhee. Youngbin would force you to take your finals even if the world was set to end in a week. This was important to him, okay? Just, do it for him. Make _him_ proud.”

Chanhee blanches. Youngkyun shrugs when he’s turned to for help in proving the younger’s point. “I… Kind of agree. Youngbin would want you to go. And, hey, he’s tough. And he’s smart, he’s coming back, Chanhee, I promise.”

“They both are,” Sanghyuk finishes, and watches as Chanhee gives up the fight.

He scuffs his toe on the kitchen floor, shaking his head gently. “I’m hoping you two are right.”

“We are,” Sanghyuk affirms.

“Me too,” Youngkyun notes at the same time, earning a sharp glare from Sanghyuk. “What? I’m allowed to have hope.”


	4. I Walk The Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; brief smut, gore mention

When Youngbin finally leaves, Juho is not at a loss or in a better place than when he’d taken Jaeyoon. He simply exists, in the same state, with the same purpose and the same tasks he needed to overcome before feeding off of the bratty incubus. He feels he’s aged, though, in some way or another, though it had only been a handful of hours since he’d left the bar.

Only now, he can taste Inseong’s memories on his tongue. And they’re so, _so_ bitter, with the flavor of a tainted, rotten love spattered atop them like blood. Sorrow intermingles with lust and fear, heavy and disgusting. Juho wants them gone the moment he receives them, trying to keep himself from delving into them without warning. He’d gotten a flash of one when he’d first taken them, felt a sharp, aching pain in his chest, and knew not to pry any further.

Whatever Inseong had faced in his past, Juho wants nothing to do with it. It’s a shadow that hangs over him, and that will obviously linger over Inseong once the memories are returned to him. The darkness plagues them, an open-mouthed, silent cry of anguish that sobs as a ghost would upon anybody unfortunate enough to hear it. Juho can hear it in the distance, in the back of his head, clawing and scraping for him to give in and take a peek at whatever Inseong had dealt with.

He stands in front of Inseong’s door with Seokwoo beside him. They stay a safe distance apart from each other, Juho wanting to reach out and interlace their fingers, while Seokwoo had covered his in silver rings and his wrists in sterling bracelets to keep Juho’s grasp far away from him. A classic trick, really, to keep beings of Juho’s kind in the perfect place beside humans. Not attached, but seemingly unable to draw away as well. Juho’s locked into place by his heart; he knows if he didn’t love Seokwoo, he would have killed him at this point. Seokwoo knows this, too, and takes a step to the side to increase the distance between them.

“Babe, seriously, what’s wrong?” Juho pouts, the succulent in his arms heavy. When he’d told Seokwoo why they were paying Inseong such an unprompted visit, his boyfriend had said to bring a gift. Juho, unsure of human customs, stopped at one of the various nurseries on the way to Inseong’s apartment and bought a succulent. Small, fragile, covered in thorns… He supposes everything had its defenses; from Seokwoo and his silver rings to the little flower with sharp prongs attached.

“Nothing.” Seokwoo shrugs, stuffing his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “Nothing at all, _babe_.” The last word sears Juho like iron. “I just feel unsettled, is all.”

“Are you afraid?” Juho picks his head up, straightening his posture when he knocks on the door again. There’s rustling from the other side, a clear tell that Inseong was awake and bustling around, as usual. “Of me, that is?” He clears his throat, worried for the other’s answer.

_Of course he is. You’re a monster, Juho._

The voice in his head is cold, analytical. It’s the side of him he suppresses with drugs and alcohol, that seems to die for hours when he eats human food or stays around Seokwoo for too long. Half of him was horribly human, while the other half was something darker, more vicious, that eagerly waited for the day he’d slip up and let it out while Seokwoo was close enough to grab.

“I don’t know.” Seokwoo mimics Juho, staring blankly towards the wall. The monster side of Juho only notices the way his veins throb underneath the skin of his neck, looking healthy when the demon hadn’t plunged his fangs into them yet that day. “I’m used to it, you know? I think when I walked in to you pinning that guy to a table, though, it just...”

Juho winces, thinking back to Seokwoo’s brief encounter with Youngbin. How the other demon had looked at him, clearly questioning why there was a human inside of Juho’s legion. He remembers the way Youngbin had gone limp, then suddenly fought back stronger than before, almost completely able to overpower Juho at the sight of Seokwoo. Juho had become defensive. He knows if Youngbin was human, in any way, he would be dead from what he’d done to him.

“You both looked like you wanted to eat me, or something.”

“No,” Juho scoffs, earning a sharp glare from the other, “well, I mean, I know I kinda contradict that, but...” He looks down guiltily at the floor. “I’ve been taking less, right..?”

Seokwoo looks away once the door finally opens, smiling at his friend. “Inseong!” He greets warmly, trying to clear the air from the tensity it felt when only Juho and himself were breathing it. “Sorry we’re so unannounced,” he bows his head apologetically, “we just have something that might be important for you.”

Inseong looks them both up and down. “Is it… The plant?”

“No, this is a gift.” Juho extends his hand, plopping the potted succulent into Inseong’s cautiously outstretched palms. “For- for you.”

Seokwoo glares at the idiot beside him before pushing past Inseong, stepping inside. He makes his way to the living room, followed by his friend, then his moron boyfriend. Juho seems lost behind the both of them, curiously looking at everything as if seeing it for the first time.

“So… What’s up?” Inseong hums when they’re all finally in the living room. Juho takes a seat on the couch, besides Seokwoo, who puts his silver-clad hand between them as a form of defense. The ebony haired demon flinches away from it. “You both look tense.”

Seokwoo reaches forward, gently taking the plant from Inseong’s hands before setting it on the ground in front of the couch. “Juho has some things to tell you, ‘Seong...”

“You might want to sit down,” Juho cautions, only to watch Inseong cross his arms and continue to stand in front of the couch, “okay, never mind, I’ll just get started.”

“I’d be delighted to hear why you’re interrupting me,” Inseong huffs, “I was in the middle of something...”

Deciding to just get into it, Juho begins. “Okay, I’ll just go from the beginning.” Inseong nods. Juho continues. “When a Nosferatu and a human love each other very, _very_ much,” Seokwoo can’t help but snort at Juho’s sugarcoating, “and when that human then _cheats_ on the Nosferatu, couple’s therapy isn’t exactly going to help that.” Juho begins, clapping his hands together. “So, the Nosferatu tells the human he wants a child. And, you know, they’ve been dating for quite some time, why not? Nine months later, baby! A human child. Don’t ask me how it works, I don’t really know, nor make the rules...”

Inseong looks completely lost. Seokwoo looks humored, at the least, and Juho looks like he wants to off himself. He continues begrudgingly. “It’s a revenge tactic. The Nosferatu slices open his hand, forces the baby to drink its blood. They’re converted into a half human, half Nosferatu. You call it a vampire, I prefer half-ling, or, if you really want to be on my good side, demon works just fine.”

Now, Inseong’s the one who looks humored. “Cute story, is this some role play thing you’re up to?”

“This isn’t a game,” Juho grunts, knowing far too well he’ll need to prove himself. He’d had to with Seokwoo, he’ll need to with Inseong. “How can I prove it to you?”

“You can’t.” Inseong deadpans. “Demons don’t exist.”

“My good side!” Juho purrs, “you’re on it already, no need to be so kind.”

Inseong’s about to argue, but when Juho flicks his wrist, the lights in the room begin to flicker. With another flick, they still, and all blink out at once. “Now, where was I?”

The silver haired boy seems impressed. “Did you rig up a wire, or something? Woah, right on command… You have a remote, right?” He looks around, squinting at the lights in an attempt to see a wire that isn’t hooked up. “You hid it so well...”

Seokwoo bites his lip, turning as he raises an eyebrow to Juho. “Well, prove it. Without the flashy little entrance, yeah? We have things to do today.”

“We- we do?” Juho forgets what situation they’re in as he turns to Seokwoo. “What do we have to do today?”

Seokwoo looks like he’s been punched square in the face. He deflates, falling back against the couch. Juho thinks he sees tears in his eyes. “Nothing. Never mind. Go on with your work.”

“What?” Juho cocks his head to the side, only brought back to the present when Inseong coughs. “Oh, right. Um,” he reaches over, motioning for Seokwoo to remove his jewelry.

Seokwoo does, albeit slowly, and the moment they’re off he’s dragged into Juho’s lap. “Sorry, this is going to be graphic,” Juho glances up to Inseong before he feels his fangs sharpen in his mouth. He runs his tongue over them before looking down at Seokwoo. “I’ll buy you a coffee after this, okay? Sorry...”

“Yeah, you’d fucking better.” Seokwoo snaps, turning his head to the side to allow Juho access to his neck.

Inseong watches the scene comically, until he’s forced to see Juho plunge his teeth into the skin of Seokwoo’s neck. At first, he thinks it’s just a joke, until a thick red bead of blood dribbles past Juho’s lips and onto Seokwoo’s collar. Inseong screams, stumbling backwards, before racing forwards to shove Juho off of his best friend. “What the _fuck_!?”

Seokwoo glances up, the only expression on his face being one of mild discomfort. “Hey.”

Juho licks the blood off of his lips, smirking. “Believe me now?” Inseong trembles as he inspects the fang markings in his friend’s skin. Juho sighs, pulling Seokwoo to his chest and away from Inseong. His actions are possessive, and he sticks his bottom lip out and narrows his eyes at Inseong. At the taste of blood, the side of him he’d hated was drawn out. _Mine_. His grip tightens on Seokwoo, pulling the boy onto his lap further.

“Anyway,” he coos, “I made some deals with some untrustworthy people, and something you may want to know about crossed my path.”

Inseong can’t help but sit down, watching Juho with wide eyes. He’s pale, as if he’d seen a ghost. And, honestly, he had, in some fucked up way. The look in his eyes tells Juho to continue. “You’re not an amnesiac, Inseong.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Inseong begins, until Juho shuts him up again.

“No, I mean, you _are_ , but not in the way that you think you are.” Juho leans forward, forcing Seokwoo down as well. He holds the other like a doll, resting his cheek on his head. “A demon had stolen your memories from you-”

“-I don’t believe you.”

“Well, even if you don’t believe me, come over here so I can give them back to you. They taste bad.”

“They… What?” Inseong moves closer to the couch, but he shakes his head in disbelief. “Okay, I can believe that you’re _something_ , but saying that you have my memories is really fucked up. This shit has hurt me for _months_ , and now it’s some game to you-”

Juho slams his palm against the human’s forehead, and feels a spark pass between them. He’d claimed Inseong long, long ago, back when he’d first met him. He had his own spark, which warded off other demons in case they tried to take him. Juho had made promises to an old friend in order to create a protective barrier around Inseong. He wouldn’t have cared if the boy wasn’t Seokwoo’s best friend, but knew that if anything happened to the human, it would be on him for _not_ helping.

There’s a painful moment of silence between them, before Juho’s eyes glisten green and Inseong’s mirror the color, glossing over. Tears begin to roll down his cheeks, as, painfully, his memories begin to flow back into his head.

  


Inseong can’t move. Under Juho’s touch, he’s immobilized. Sorrow swells in his chest, and pain washes over him in harsh waves.

He feels his hold on reality slipping, blackness coating his vision before he begins falling. Or, he _thinks_ he’s falling. He’s sure he’s hit the floor when he hears Seokwoo’s alarmed shout and Juho’s sigh of discontent.

Blacking out couldn’t happen slower.

  


_“Sanghyuk,” Inseong breathes, legs wrapped tightly around the other’s hips, “I’m close...”_

_“That’s okay,” Sanghyuk nods, adoration filling his gaze as he brings a hand up to push Inseong’s hair back for him, “you finish when you’re ready, okay? Don’t wait for me.” He punctuates the sentence with a sharp thrust upwards, and Inseong shouts as he buries his face into the other’s neck. “Is that okay?”_

_“Yes, it’s fucking okay!” Inseong wails when the action is repeated, bringing a hand down to take care of himself as Sanghyuk’s hands curl around his waist. “Fuck… Fuck!”_

_Inseong finally brings himself to look to the other, who’s absolutely breathtaking with his hair slicked back, sweat coating his forehead. His cheeks are flushed, eyes glazed over from the pleasure. Inseong can’t help but press his lips tightly onto Sanghyuk’s, which eagerly kiss him back, Sanghyuk pulling him closer as he does._

_Inseong freezes, feeling at a loss. The feeling grows the longer their lips are connected, yet Inseong is unable to pull away. He’s stuck there, rooted to the other, who doesn’t seem willing to let go any time soon. The kiss is warm, warmer than anything else he’d felt before. It’s as if the warmth passes from Inseong to Sanghyuk, leaving the former open to a colder atmosphere that slowly sinks in around him._

_The lost feeling grows. It continues on to the point where Inseong is struggling to come up with his boyfriend’s name, or what he’s doing or where he is._

_Inseong is lost until his breath hitches and he falls forward onto the stranger in front of him, fully limp as he weakly claws for a sense of reality against the other. “I...”_

_“Inseong? Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”_

_“Where…” Inseong shakes his head, vision black as he begins to drift into the cold settling in his body. “Sanghyuk...”_

_The stranger panics, and though Inseong can’t see it, he can feel it. Someone’s hands land firmly on his shoulders, shaking him roughly. “Hey, what’s going on with you? Inseong, come on, this isn’t funny...”_

_The next thing to disappear is Inseong’s sense of touch. The last thing he smells is cologne, he doesn’t know if it’s his or the strangers, and the last is his hearing before he finds himself drifting into a horrible, silent void._

  


“Did you kill him!?”

“He might be stunned- I don’t know!”

Inseong opens his eyes to Seokwoo and Juho kneeling over him, worry prominent on their faces.

“Oh, fuck,” Seokwoo sighs, “good, you’re up...”

“Welcome back,” Juho croons, earning himself a sharp slap from Seokwoo. “Hey!”

Cautiously sitting up, Inseong brings his hands to his head, clutching it weakly. “Fuck… That hurts,” he whispers, wincing as a sharp pain jumps up behind his eyes, “that fucking sucked.”

There’s an unsaid question dangling between Seokwoo and Juho as they watch Inseong. He can almost hear it in the air, nodding slowly.

“I remember,” he closes his eyes, stroking his temple with his hands as he brings his knees to his chest, “I remember it all.”

  


* * *

  


The shadow that had threatened Juho before now consumes Inseong. He’s left alone, laying on his bed in the darkness of the night, as he suffers through it.

His friends had left after his memories had been returned, offering no guidance or assistance with how to proceed with what happened next. Juho’s only instruction was to never, _never_ contact Sanghyuk. That would lead to a fight, and, evident death in possibly both legions.

Inseong fucking hates Sanghyuk. Somebody he’d _trusted_ , to use and hurt him as he did? It sickens him, and leaves him with the urge to vomit. The whole thing is nauseating; the way he’d been used and discarded like that. Sanghyuk was a monster. A fucking monster.

Bright, neon reflections light up Inseong’s bedroom from the city outside, where they glimmer and hang against the buildings. A hot pink light shines across his floor, and when he idly traces it back to the source, the word _VACANCY_ stares back at him. He can almost hear the whirring of the light from where he lays inside.

He shakes from the anger he feels, like a child unable to contain even the smallest of their emotions. He balls his fingers into fists, cussing as he rolls over to bury his face into his pillows as he grits his teeth together. _Fuck_ Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk is a spider, and Inseong is the unlucky dragonfly that’s snared in his web. Was? Inseong has _no_ idea what Sanghyuk’s intentions must be. Even after all this time… He was still alive, which meant Sanghyuk still had an eye on him. He hadn’t ever been the type to let people go.

It was why he’d been at the library, Inseong decides. He sits up, gripping the blankets as he tries to form a plan. If he didn’t come up with _something_ , he’d be caught off guard when Sanghyuk finally decided to strike next.

They’re approaching a climax, Inseong can feel it in his veins. Now that he knew, remembered, his past, Sanghyuk would come back for him.

Judging by the way Sanghyuk had begun coming closer, Inseong only prays that he’ll have another day to prepare himself before the other finally returns to him.

  


* * *

  


“What are you making for dinner?” Juho sits forward at the table, resting his cheeks in his palms as he watches Seokwoo work over the stove. The brunette smiles cruelly, turning to look sweetly to Juho.

“Italian.”

The half-ling blanches. Seokwoo knows what he’s doing, especially when he reaches over to the clove of garlic Juho had failed to notice to chop it into pieces. “Babe, seriously. What’s wrong.” He watches as Seokwoo drops it into the pot, never breaking eye contact with him. “What did I do?”

The question draws something ugly out of Seokwoo. “Do you want a _fucking_ list?” He hums, voice like cotton as he speaks. Juho tries not to look alarmed, but can’t help it as he leans back in his seat.

It’s pitiful, almost, the way a human had a powerful demon shaking. Seokwoo throws down the knife he’d been using, stepping over towards the table. Juho jumps when the utensil hits the counter, grimacing at the other’s painfully slow steps. “You _fucked_ somebody yesterday, Juho. We are dating.”

“I wouldn’t exactly...” Juho realizes there’s no way he can talk himself out of the situation. He nods, slowly, watching Seokwoo’s face twitch into a pained expression as he continues.

“You have been neglecting this relationship since you got caught up in playing leader.” Seokwoo stands tall, looking up towards the ceiling to keep his tears in check. “You are _not_ a leader. You are a fucking child who doesn’t know when enough is enough. You haven’t even spoken to me in days, not when we’re alone. You _pretend_ we’re fine when we’re around the others, but the moment we’re alone, you...”

Dully, Juho nods. He doesn’t disagree. Seokwoo scoffs. “You can’t even speak, now? Say something!”

Juho doesn’t. It breaks Seokwoo down further, until he doesn’t care when the tears fall and he’s shoving at Juho, screaming at him as he pushes on his chest, trying to drag any reaction he can from the other. “ _Say_ something! Fucking _do_ something!”

When he still can’t elicit a reaction, Seokwoo collapses to his knees in front of Juho’s legs, gasping for breath.

Silence wraps around them like a thick bandage, choking Seokwoo further on his tears and sharp breaths. His face is red, sucking in sharply to avoid sobbing. He’ll allow himself to cry, but he’ll _never_ sob. He doesn’t want Juho to have the satisfaction to see him so worked up. Screaming was one thing, wailing was another. He wasn’t a child.

Seokwoo didn’t cry.

  


_Seokwoo sits on the edge of the bathtub while Inseong dresses the wounds on his face for the second time that month._

_“Seriously, when will you learn...” Inseong tuts, bringing the roll of gauze he’s working with to his teeth as he tugs on it with them, snapping it finally. Seokwoo sniffles, wincing when his friend presses the bandage to his skin. “You’re not tough enough to keep picking fights. You’re going to end up really hurt one day, and I won’t be there to help you.”_

_The sixth grader kicks his legs out impatiently as his friend continues to dote on him. They’d been close growing up, thanks to their parents having been friends since they were students themselves. Inseong was older, ninth grade, but he didn’t look down on Seokwoo. They were friends regardless of their age. “They were picking on that girl, though...”_

_Sighing, the older nods. “Then, she was lucky you were there.” He pulls the bandage he’d been patting Inseong’s wounds with away. Grimacing at the blood that still speckles the other’s face, he turns around to grab a washcloth from the edge of the sink. “But you need to be careful, too… I don’t know what I’d do if you got too hurt.”_

_Seokwoo nods, sticking his bottom lip out when he’s directed to. He didn’t know how bad his injuries were, but from how he’d tasted blood after the first punch, he assumed he’d received another split lip. He can’t be sure, but he vaguely remembers one of the people he’d been fighting with wearing a ring._

_He remembers the feeling of it slicing his cheek when one punch landed successfully on it, remembers fighting back his tears._

_Crying was weak._

_Seokwoo wasn’t weak._

  


When he finally regains himself, Seokwoo looks up to Juho, who can’t seem to look back to him. “Am I just a _toy_ to you?”

Juho shakes his head, his hair bouncing with the movements.

He wonders how long it would take to clear all of his things out from Juho’s room. Probably not long, he’d be able to do it in a matter of minutes if the other didn’t disrupt him. “What am I to you, then?”

“You’re...” Juho breathes, taking his time with each word to mull it over, “you’re my Seokwoo.”

The brunette scoffs. “I’m not your anything.”

He watches Juho stiffen, takes pleasure in the way his hands tremble. Seokwoo stands, amazed at how calm he was as he tore his comfortable life to shreds. “I don’t know that you know how much you’re hurting me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

They watch each other. Seokwoo, guarded and cautious, while Juho seems to be breaking at every seam. His feet tap on the floor anxiously, fingers twitching on his lap. He nods, biting his lip. “I am.”

Seokwoo cards a hand through his hair, sighing slowly. “I think I want to spend the night at Taeyang’s house.”

“But-”

At the glare Seokwoo shoots him, Juho shuts up.

“This is me giving you time to think about what you’re doing.” Seokwoo explains, as if he’s speaking to a child. “Next time, how about you don’t fuck somebody when you’re already in a relationship? I’m being really fucking generous here, and I’m willing to forgive you, but I need my space.”

Juho doesn’t argue.

He watches Seokwoo walk back over to the stove, pick up the pot, and dump the water he’d been boiling into the sink. He switches off the boiler, and leaves the room.

Taeyang was another member of their legion; he would take care of Seokwoo.

Juho can’t move from where he’s rooted to the chair, feeling fear bubble up in his chest as he worries for what he’s doing to his relationship.

_“Are you okay?”_

_Juho opens his eyes to see somebody crouching over him, blocking out the light of the sun. The rays from it illuminate his face, casting an eerie halo behind his head that seems to follow him when he moves. “Why are you out here all alone?”_

_The boy helps Juho sit up, smiling softly. The demon doesn’t know where he is, just that he’s_ freezing _and the boy in front of him wasn’t cowering in fear. Was that normal? “I… I don’t know.”_

_He knows. He’d destroyed his home, set a match and burned it all to the ground. Metaphorically and physically; he’d ruined it all. When he looks down, he sees his hands still covered in soot, and knows that beneath they’re soaked in blood._

_He wasn’t himself when he’d burned it all to the ground. Everyone in his family had different names for it; his father called it the perfect version of himself, his mother called it a monster. Juho agrees with his mother’s terminology more. He was a monster._

_“Are you, like, homeless?”_

_Juho shrugs. The boy in front of him smiles, standing in the snow. His coat is far too big on him, dangling down to his knees. His mittens are a size too large, too, dangerously close to sliding off of his hands. Juho has the odd feeling that the boy will grow into them, though. “That’s okay, I know somebody. He’ll help you.”_

_Seokwoo had led Juho to Youngbin._

_Juho had run away with the first chance he’d gotten._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna be honestly it is 6am and i've been working on this chapter since 2am and i am Very sleep deprived, so there are probably lots of confusing sentences that i'll fix up when i'm awake again later today BUT i just wanted to get this out there for anybody who might be waiting for it :(


	5. Gasoline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; blood, violence, minor character death

Youngkyun leans back against his pillows, laptop balanced on his chest as he skims through the list of colleges he’d thought of applying to for the third time that afternoon. His windows are opened, the stench of the city outside intermingling with the sweet tang of the alcohol he’d spilled on the floor an hour earlier.

He’d cleaned it, but the smell hung over where it had happened, determined on leaving its mark.

The clicking of his keyboard is the only thing he can concentrate on. He missed Chanhee, and had wanted to pick him up after his finals. Sanghyuk had refused to let him leave, going as far as to sit in front of Youngkyun’s bedroom door to make sure he stayed put.

“It’s dangerous,” he mocks the older, sucking in a low breath as he hoists his computer off of himself. Sanghyuk had left around the same time Youngkyun had dropped the bottle of whiskey, claiming that the smell of it all made him lightheaded. Good riddance.

Looking through schools was pointless when he was in this state; he reaches over to his desk, grabbing the small, electric device once hidden behind a jar of change. He brings one end of it to his lips, staring at the wall as he inhales the smoke that escapes the device when he presses the only button on it.

His door creaks open, Chanhee stepping inside slowly. He shuts it behind himself, seeming tired as he drops his bag on the floor.

Youngkyun raises an eyebrow, pulling his lips away from the device before blowing the smoke towards the other, smirking. “Hey.”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” Chanhee skips a greeting, stepping through the cloud of artificially tinted smoke. Youngkyun leans back, away from Chanhee when he brings his hands towards the other.

He slips to the other side of the bed, back against his pillows, to avoid the younger. “Hey… I told you we should wait until you graduate to do that.”

“You’re only a year older than me,” Chanhee argues, “and I don’t want to do that right now.”

Curiously, Youngkyun cocks his head to the side as he takes another hit from the device, twirling his fingers around it when he pulls it away. He doesn’t try to impress the other, just lets the smoke escape his mouth when he begins speaking. “So… What do you want to do?”

The brunette smiles, sitting on the other side of the bed before sliding over towards Youngkyun, his back pressed against the other’s upraised knees. “Don’t know,” Chanhee turns around, wrapping his arms around Youngkyun’s legs as he rests his chin on his knees. “But I could show you.”

Youngkyun doesn’t expect for Chanhee to lunge at him, to straddle his chest and pin him to the bed, so he doesn’t have enough time to defend himself when it happens. He gasps, immediately fighting back against the other. “What the fuck are you doing!?”

Chanhee’s eyes shimmer a bright iridescent, and Youngkyun closes his immediately at the sight of it. He knew what the color meant, knew that if he opened his eyes the other would be able to command him to do _anything_ he desired. “This isn’t funny, Chanhee, quit it!”

He raises his voice, hoping it grabs the attention of somebody, _anybody_ else in the house. He’d seen Jaeyoon come home earlier with Youngbin, but didn’t know if the two had left together already like they’d said they planned to earlier in the day. Sanghyuk, maybe, was still around. When Youngkyun opens his mouth to call out for him, Chanhee slams his palm against his lips to silence him.

Youngkyun opens his eyes quickly, trying to see what the other was doing before realizing what he’d opened himself up to.

“Don’t scream,” Chanhee whispers, hovering over Youngkyun. His eyes glisten as the instruction sears itself into the other's brain. The brunette can only nod, feeling the cry for help die in his throat and exit his lips as a soft sigh.

He shifts underneath the other, who’s clearly pleased with himself that things had gone so far so smoothly.

“Chanhee… It’s enough,” Youngkyun whispers the moment the other’s hand draws away from his lips, “you’re starting to scare me.”

What scares Youngkyun isn’t the look on Chanhee’s face, or how his eyes are void of any recognition or warmth when he looks down at him. It’s how he _laughs_ after he’s told that his friend is scared. Cold, humorless laughter falls from him, hangs between them as Youngkyun’s smoke had moments before.

“Do you think I care?”

Youngkyun gasps, letting out a pained hiss when Chanhee lurches forward and plants his mouth against the skin of his throat. “Chanhee...” he whimpers, unable to move under the other. He’s forced to stare at the ceiling as he feels the other’s breath tickle his skin. “Please,” he begs, closing his eyes, “please knock it off.”

It’s not Chanhee anymore. Something had snapped inside of him, rupturing his image of Youngkyun completely. They weren’t friends, not like how they’d been the night before; they were a hunter and prey.

Youngkyun remembers how Chanhee had sobbed into his side the night prior, swaddled in Youngkyun’s arms underneath a mound of blankets, about how he was scared his friends were never coming home when his fangs finally sink into the soft flesh of Youngkyun's neck.

“Chanhee!” He can’t bring his voice past a whisper. He doesn’t know if it’s his own fear or the other’s abilities that almost completely mute him. “Chanhee, _please_!”

The other doesn’t listen to his complaining, doesn’t even flinch at the fear in his friend’s voice. He buries his face deeper in the crook between Youngkyun’s shoulder and neck, messily biting at the spot he’d drawn blood from.

Youngkyun begins fighting back, shoving and struggling underneath the other. When Chanhee doesn’t budge from his spot on the other’s neck, Youngkyun begins reaching for the glass jar of money on his nightstand.

He’d had it since he moved in with Jaeyoon, since he’d run away. There was almost five hundred dollars in it, in coins and bills, that he saved for strictly emergencies. And, occasionally, taking Chanhee out on weekends to get dinner.

His fingers just barely brush it before Chanhee’s hand shoots out to try and pull his own away from the jar. “Quit it,” he commands, feeling Youngkyun freeze underneath him. He’s immediately back on the other’s throat, almost forgetting about his attempts at grabbing for the jar when he remembers what he'd been doing before.

Youngkyun reaches for the glass again, shifting as much as he can under the younger’s weight. Each time he gets close, Chanhee looks up and forces his hand away, so he brings his other hand to the demon’s head and, after a short moment of deliberation, forces it against his own neck.

Chanhee doesn’t fight against it, almost enjoys it. To him, Youngkyun is encouraging him to continue. He bites down harder, eliciting a pained groan from the other before his head snaps up at the explosion of glass on the floor.

Youngkyun takes the moment of surprise to kick Chanhee away from him, finally breaking out from his spell as he begins to scream. He feels blood flowing quickly down his neck, and brings his hands up to try and stop it, praying that he wouldn’t bleed out from the other’s attack. The distraction had only worked for a moment, as Chanhee shoves him back against the pillows in a matter of seconds after being kicked away.

“Chanhee!” Youngkyun shrieks, twisting around in an attempt to keep the other from hitting another spot on his neck. “Fuck, _why_!?” He can hear somebody approaching the room. He keeps screaming, hoping that they would come in and save him from the younger. “Get off of me!”

The door swings open a moment later, Sanghyuk standing in the entrance as he tries to assess what’s happening. It only takes a second before he’s wrapping his arms around Chanhee’s waist, yanking him up to get him off of the human, whose blood’s begun to stain the sheets underneath him.

“Chanhee!” Sanghyuk screams, tightening his grip around the younger when he begins to kick and shout, reaching out for Youngkyun though he was firmly trapped in the other’s arms. “What the fuck are you doing!?”

Terrified, all Youngkyun can do is stare up at Chanhee, fingers tightly pressed against the bites.

* * *

“Somebody got a nosebleed during their final,” Youngbin sits with his legs crossed on the couch, Sanghyuk laying in front of him with a game controller in his palms, “I assume it must have triggered something in Chanhee.”

He still holds his phone up to his ear though his call with the school had just finished. They’d known something must have happened during the day for Chanhee to lash out; it was the first time he’d done so. Everybody knew it wouldn’t be the last, but they all refused to say it. The first taste of human blood was always the most intoxicating.

“It was so violent...” Sanghyuk whispers, shaking his head. He pauses his game, turning to look at Youngbin. “You weren’t there, you wouldn’t have seen it. The blood was _dripping_ off of the bed, he was barely drinking any of it." He seems to stare through Youngbin. "It was like he was just doing it for fun."

Youngbin sighs, closing his eyes as his hand falls across his chest. He lets his phone go, and it slides down to rest on his thighs as he lays back. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him...”

The home is aglow with an orange light, the windows open all around. The sunset outside burns like hot coals, sparking orange and pink over a quickly arising blackness. The city below is alive.

Jaeyoon stands in the kitchen after having offered to cook dinner, humming as he works over the pot on the stove. He listens in halfheartedly to the others’ conversation, though he doesn’t offer any input, even if he had something to say. He’s content with just listening, allowing Sanghyuk and Youngbin to figure everything out.

“We should keep an eye on him,” Sanghyuk decides, “he still has his last day tomorrow; should one of us go with him?”

Youngbin sighs. “He won’t try anything if he’s surrounded by people, he isn’t that stupid.”

Sanghyuk nods, resuming his game. “I’m going to pick him up after, then. I don’t like the idea of him being out all alone when that shit just happened.” Jaeyoon winces, flinching as he adds more salt to the pot in front of him.

The shower hisses as it turns off, and Youngbin turns towards the bathroom door slowly. Youngkyun had locked himself in there over two hours ago, refusing to let anybody else in as he cleaned his wounds. He hadn’t seen Youngbin and Jaeyoon return home.

The redhead stands, stretching. “I’m gonna go check on him.”

“I’ll see how Chanhee’s doing in a few,” Sanghyuk answers flatly, eyes widening when something explodes on the TV. His character is injured, Youngbin watches him duck behind cover as he begins to dress an injury. The graphics are outstanding, though the game had come out well over four years ago.

He walks slowly towards the bathroom, knocking gently on the door once he finally stands in front of it. Youngkyun opens it, eyebrows raised as he holds a towel to his head. His hair drips cold water down onto his shorts and the tiled bathroom floor. “Can I help you?”

Youngbin takes a look around to make sure nobody besides Youngkyun is listening. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Youngkyun opens the door, allowing the older into the room. Youngbin shuts it behind himself before taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub, inspecting the other’s wound from a safe distance.

The bites are messy, unorganized and deep. It reminds Youngbin of a shark’s bite, uncoordinated and clumsy. “Does it hurt?”

“It did,” Youngkyun shrugs, “but not really anymore. The shower helped.” He muses, throwing his head forward before ruffling his hair with the towel. He flings it back, some strands sticking to his forehead. His fingers card them back gingerly. Hesitantly, he turns to Youngbin. “Why… Did he do it?”

“He got triggered by some kid’s nosebleed today during the final,” he answers, anxiously tapping his fingers against his thighs. He _had_ to tell Youngkyun; had to get rid of the guilt that plagued him.

“But… I’ve bled before in front of him, it never did anything then.”

“He isn’t like us,” Youngbin murmurs, watching the floor. Youngkyun pauses on his way to grab his shirt from the dryer, the door to it gaping open to reveal not only the other’s black shirt, but sweats and a hoodie. He planned on going out. Youngbin only realized it when he saw the other's bag atop the dryer, his phone and his wallet hanging out of the front pocket. “He’s…”

“He’s what?” Youngkyun mumbles, suddenly immersed in what Youngbin was saying. “Tell me. What is he?”

“He doesn’t know,” Youngbin starts, sitting forward quickly, “I’m trusting you with this. If you tell him, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“It’s… It’s that serious?”

“If he knows, it’ll ruin his life, and the others won’t care for him anymore.”

Youngbin reaches forward. “I took his memories of it all, but I want you to see them.” At the other’s stunned expression, Youngbin flicks his hand upwards. “If you want to know, take my hand.”

Albeit slowly, Youngkyun’s trembling hand slowly folds into Youngbin’s, and he’s thrown headfirst into somebody else’s life.

  


_Chanhee throws open the front door, panting from the run down the road. He’d gotten a new game the day before, and had been dying to play it all day._

_His home is warm to contrast from the cold night outside. He shuts the door, leaning down to slide off his shoes as he calls out through his house, “I’m home!”_

_He’d known nothing but love growing up. His mother had always been there for him, and his father had always been his closest confidant._ _Each day, they would repeat the same routine. He’d get home and greet the house, to which his father would call back to him from where he would be in the living room. He’d have only gotten home from work an hour before. His mother would be in the kitchen, earbuds crammed in as she listened to a cooking tutorial and attempted to replicate it. Chanhee would always surprise her when he entered the kitchen. She wasn’t a great cook, but no matter what she made and how it was made, Chanhee would eat it._

_Today, nobody answers him._

_“Dad?”_

_It sets him on edge, as their routine had been one put in place since he started walking back to their house alone from the end of their street, where the bus would drop him off. Every day, without fail, for almost four years._

_Maybe he had to work late?_

_Chanhee enters the kitchen, already thrown off by his father’s absence. When his mother isn’t even standing there, in front of the large, sloping windows, with her hair tied back and her apron tied tightly on, Chanhee panics. “Mom?”_

_Her phone lays abandoned on the counter. He walks over to it slowly, but when he looks at it he takes a quick step back, his hands beginning to shake. The screen is cracked, too cracked for the device to be used anymore. Glass lays around it on the counter, and Chanhee’s sure he sees blood where the display once was._

_When he turns, he notices a note on the table that he hadn’t seen before; that hadn’t_ been _there before. He walks over to it cautiously, keeping his distance as he reads it, as if it’ll lunge and attack him._

Chanhee – come upstairs.

_The handwriting belongs to neither of his parents. It’s crude, obviously the note had been rushed. His name is scribbled over the wrong characters for a similar name; they didn’t even know how to spell it properly. Chanhee assumes that they’d just made a lucky guess with what they’d put down._

_He looks towards the stairs, eyes widening when he sees blood on them, staining the carpet. His mother’s apron lays abandoned near the top steps._

_“Who’s in here?” He calls out, staring into the darkness above. He had just turned thirteen in the beginning of the year, he felt he was fine to fight if he needed to. Panic rises in his chest, but he shoves it back down as he ascends the stairs._

_He keeps his steps silent, deciding to_ _head towards the bathroom. It was the only room with the lights on; he could see it from underneath the closed door._

_When he stands in front of the door, he prepares himself quickly for what’s on the other side before he throws it open, pressing his lips together tightly._

_Nobody’s there, and he slowly loses the tension he’d held in his shoulders._

_Somebody shoves him into the room from behind, sending him to his knees._

_“Got him!” They call, laughing maniacally as they pin the teenager. Their knee slams into his back, sending Chanhee’s chest to the floor. He’s held there before he’s turned over, the man’s knee switching so it can pin down his chest. There’s blood coating his hands, and Chanhee thinks that in the quick second he sees the man’s eyes, they glow red._

_The next moments pass in a blur. A girl with dark hair enters the room, looking to the boy as if he was a trophy. Pride swells in her eyes. “He’s perfect.”_

_“Was,” the man’s smile never breaks, eyes wild as he turns to the girl. “Turn him.”_

_“I get to do it?” She stares at the man incredulously._

_“Do it before I decide to kill him,” he scoffs, and the girl obliges, taking over holding down Chanhee as the man slides back into the darkness of the hallway._

_At first, he’d been too shocked to fight back, but after he’d watched their exchange, Chanhee’s fear pushes him to fight. He screams, kicking and shouting as the girl looks down at him. She doesn’t move. Not until Chanhee blinks, when she’s suddenly poised above his neck, breath hot on his skin-_

_She’s thrown off of him,_ _but not before_ _her teeth break,_ _and enter, h_ _is skin. He screams, feeling somebody grab his ankle and drag him back into the darkness of the hallway. The man from before pulls Chanhee’s back against his chest, an arm tight around his neck. His hand brushes the new wound and Chanhee cries out, squirming in the other's arms._

_There’s a third person there, a boy with curly brown hair and eyes that seem to shimmer in the darkness. “Let the boy go.” He mutters, eyes glancing to the bite the girl had left on his neck. He stiffens, eyes wide as he looks to the man. “You fucking_ infected _him?”_

 _The girl throws herself into the boy, blood caking her features. It pours out of her nose, and she straddles the boy as her hands wrap around his throat. He struggles, tearing her hands away from his neck after a moment of clawing at them. Chanhee doesn’t know what’s happening; he’s_ scared. _He doesn’t know what’s happened to his parents, and he doesn’t know what the boy had meant by infected._

_He’s thrown to the floor the moment the boy pins the girl, as the man rushes to aid his accomplice. Chanhee takes the moment their eyes are taken off of him to run, throwing himself into the first room he sees. He locks the door behind himself and flicks the lights on, looking for his exit._

_His parents' bedroom is covered in blood, the landline phone laying in the center of the floor._ _It whines, buzzing and hissing white noise. The dial-up tone screams from the speaker on the device._

_“Mom?” He calls nervously, taking a step into the room further. “Dad?”_

_Something smashes against the door behind him. He jumps, running further into the room before he stills._

_There’s a body on the floor._

_Chanhee stares at it, taking slow breaths as he assesses the situation. He knows who it is, the familiarity hitting him and making his heart twist, but he refuses to name it. It’s just a body. He doesn’t know her name, it’s just a body._

_He takes a step closer, followed by another, until he’s standing directly beside her._

_He kneels, reaching forward to turn her head so he can see her face. He can’t believe it’s his mother, it_ can’t _be. His hands are stained with her blood when he reaches down to grab her hand. “Mom?”_

_She’s alive, barely breathing. She coughs, breaths rattling in her chest. Chanhee’s heart drops, and he urges her back down when she tries to sit up._

_“They finally caught up to us..” She smiles weakly, reaching forward to cup Chanhee’s cheek in her hand. When it falls, her blood ghosts where her fingers had been. “Where’s your father?”_

_“I-I don’t...”_

_“Youngbin, is he here?”_

_Chanhee squints at her. She_ knew _those people? “Um… I don’t… I really don’t...”_

_“He’ll protect you,” she promises weakly, eyes fluttering shut as she takes a deep breath. “That’s what I hired him to do...”_

_“You what? Mom, what…? Hey,” Chanhee freezes when he sees her chest stop rising. “Mom? Hey, hey, open your eyes. I’m right here. Please, mom, come on,” he feels hot tears fall down his face as he grips his mother’s hands, “don’t leave me.”_

_The door crashes open, and Chanhee doesn’t look to see who it is as he’s lifted up. He’s numb, the sight in front of him searing itself into his head as he can’t bring himself to look away._

_“Kid, we need to go._ Now _.” The boy from before throws Chanhee over his shoulder, leaving the room quickly. Chanhee stares after them, seeing two more bodies at the end of the hall._

_The boy carries him for what feels like hours, going from running to walking to jogging as they cut through the woods behind Chanhee’s home. He’d changed how he held the younger, instead of over the shoulder, he now has one arm under his knees and the other supporting his head._

_Chanhee stares blankly at the sky, which had darkened fully while he was home. It's dark now, the forest around the two seemingly swallowing them into the blackness of the wilderness._

_“Mom,” he whispers, finally feeling the rush of pain hit him._

_Youngbin has to stop running when Chanhee starts to cry. He looks down at the other pitifully, slowly letting him go. Chanhee collapses to his knees, and Youngbin follows him down, pulling him into his chest. Chanhee fights back for a moment, but remembers his mother’s words and stills. His tears stop falling as he begins to realize what his mother had said to him before he'd been torn away from her._

_“Who are you?”_

_The question comes out as a statement. Youngbin tries not to look panicked at the other’s sudden change in feeling, watching him nervously. “My name’s Youngbin.”_

_Chanhee watches him, waits for him to continue. “I...” Youngbin swallows thickly, looking away, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”_

_“What was that?” Chanhee whispers, looking up to the other with worry in his eyes. “What_ were _they?”_

_“We...” Youngbin corrects, reaching forward to grab the other’s hand. Chanhee slaps his fingers away. “We’re demons.” He pretends he's unaffected by Chanhee's refusal of his comfort._

_Chanhee would argue, but he remembers the girl sinking her teeth into his neck and nods. It explained it… Kind of. “Why_ us _? We're a normal family, I just... Why?_ ”

_“Not exactly... Your parents were hunters,” Youngbin murmurs, awkwardly folding his hands together in his lap. “I owed them a favor, and so when your mom called me today, saying they were planning on taking out a legion nearby… I came as fast as I could to try and help them. By the time I got there, the fight hadn’t started, but it was already over.”_ _He looks to the ground. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help them.”_

  


Youngkyun’s barely able to take a breath before he’s thrown into another jumbled mess of memories, forced to watch yet another scene unfold before him.

_“Chanhee,” Youngbin hums, drawing the other’s attention up from the comic he’s reading, “I know I’m not that good at this.”_

_“You’re… Managing,” Chanhee responds, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want?”_

_At the look in Youngbin’s eyes, Chanhee laughs nervously. “Is it serious?” His hand unconsciously slides up to his neck, where he strokes the scar that had occurred from his infection._

_“Your parents,” he begins, taking a seat next to Chanhee on the couch. They’d just bought a motel for the night, on their way to the city. They’d been cast out of their old legion upon being informed of the young half-ling that had been dragged in by Youngbin, “they want me to raise you like they would have.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“I’m enrolling you into high school when we get to the city.”_

_“No?”_

Youngkyun breaks away, falling back against the door as he tries to catch his breath.

Youngbin looks back towards the floor, guiltily ringing his hands together as he waits for the other’s reaction. When the younger says nothing, he himself breaks the silence. “I know it’s wrong that I took his memories of it all happening, but he was suffering. They wanted him to be _normal_ , Youngkyun, I couldn’t let him always know that deep down he wasn’t. At least now he can feel like he shares something in common with the rest of us, right?”

He looks up to the brunette, pleading for the other to say something to tell him he’d done the right thing. He knows he didn’t, knows it was wrong to take them, but he can’t help it. He’d seen Chanhee cry every _night_ when they’d arrived in the city, pain clear in everything he did. By taking the memories, Chanhee had become happier, only knowing a dull, almost nonexistent feeling of having lost something, somewhere, sometime… It wasn’t like the other memories. Those he didn’t care that he’d taken, that he’d ruined a life through taking them.

He knows he’s created the entire mess, yet refuses to fix it.

Youngkyun can only stare at the other from across the room, feeling worlds away.

“You took his memories,” Youngkyun whispers, “he… You need to give them back to him.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Then _I_ will!”

Youngbin cocks his head to the side at how defensive Youngkyun’s become over Chanhee, as if forgetting about the wounds littering his neck. They're red and irritated, still threatening to open back up and ooze blood if he wasn't careful. Youngkyun doesn't seem to care, not even planning on bandaging them. “Those are _his_. It doesn’t matter if they hurt him, he needs to grow from them and to know the truth. How could you _keep_ that from him!? Maybe if he _knew_ he wasn’t a full demon, he’d be able to control himself!"

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Youngbin stands, eyes wide. Youngkyun presses himself back against the door, hand poised over the knob when Youngbin crosses the room to stand in front of him. “I plan on returning them to him, _after_ he graduates, and when I’ve fulfilled my promise to his mother. When that’s done, then I’ve raised him as normally as I could.”

“You’re fucking heartless.”

“I’m sticking to my word.”

“Yeah, well your word sucks.”

Youngkyun throws open the door, ignores that he isn’t wearing a shirt as he storms towards Chanhee’s room. Youngbin knows he won’t tell him the truth, but still follows anyway, ignoring the way Sanghyuk stares worriedly after them.

  


Sanghyuk pauses his game, sitting up nervously. He turns to look at Jaeyoon, who had heard the muffled shouting as well as he had.

“What was that all about?” Jaeyoon mumbles, placing his hands on his hips. Sanghyuk shakes his head, watching Youngkyun drag Chanhee out of his room and to his own. Youngbin doesn’t follow them.

“You think he’s hiding something?” The ebony haired demon lays back against the couch, holding his controller tighter. Jaeyoon whistles.

“I mean, aren’t we all hiding something?”

“I could do without your psychological trips and shit,” Sanghyuk quips, “I’m being serious. Youngbin’s been kind of… Jumpy lately.”

“Maybe he’s dying.” Jaeyoon turns the stove off, satisfied at how the broth he’d been slaving over turned out. “Hey, come grab a spoon and try this, will you?”

Sanghyuk obliges, setting his game down before walking to the kitchen. Jaeyoon grabs a spoon from off of the counter for him, smiling when the other hesitantly tries the soup.

“It’s… Not bad,” Sanghyuk nods, holding the spoon between his lips. “It’s salty.”

“I _know_ ,” Jaeyoon whispers excitedly, “isn’t it!?”

The incubus looks endearing, so excited over what he’d made. His dimples sink low on his cheeks as he clasps his hands together, explaining to Sanghyuk each step he’d taken into preparing it. Sanghyuk’s just happy to see him safe after the events of the previous night, and sadly envelops the other into his arms when he thinks of what could have happened to him.

“Sanghyuk...”

“Hmm?”

Jaeyoon blinks. “Your game...”

Sanghyuk listens, freezing when he realizes that he must have resumed the game accidentally when he was setting the remote down. “Fuck,” he turns, watching as a crudely animated death is played when his character is attacked by the enemy, “fuck!”

Life goes on as normal for him.

And, unknowingly around him, the world falls apart.


	6. New Americana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; violence

_Inseong tastes like coffee and regret._

_Sanghyuk holds him captive in his kiss, shrouded underneath the cloak of the night as he holds the other close. Inseong shifts away from him, taking a quick breath to calm the rising redness in his cheeks. Sanghyuk looks at him, smiling, his hands falling from the brunette’s hips to the grass beside him. Flowers curl between his fingertips, dancing around each other in the soft wind._

_The park was empty save for the two teenagers._

_Inseong just stares at the other as he takes his time calming down. Sanghyuk barely notices his staring, too invested with his own._ _He smiles. It’s not bashful as he felt, it’s easy, relaxed, obviously feeling comfort in Inseong’s company._ _“You look so pretty.”_

_The red_ _almost immediately_ _returns to the brunette’s face,_ _dusting from cheek to cheek passionately_ _. “What?”_

_Under the moonlight, Inseong’s eyes sparkle. His skin glows in the pale light, and Sanghyuk can’t get enough of it. Each time he looks closer at the other, he feels more and more lucky to be the one dating him. “You heard me.”_

_“I… Maybe I didn’t.”_

_“Don’t play,” Sanghyuk puffs his cheeks out, reaching forward to grab Inseong’s hands. “You just want me to repeat myself.”_

_Inseong smiles, giggling quietly to himself. “Maybe I do.”_

_Sanghyuk smirks, bringing his head forward so he can rest his forehead against Inseong’s. The other goes wide eyed as he watches him, lips parted softly. Sanghyuk breaks a hand away from his, bringing it up to cup his cheek. His little finger strokes over the other’s lips._

_“I think you’re absolutely breathtaking.”_

  


Sanghyuk wakes up to a wave of nausea washing over him.

At first, he tries to hold back the bile he feels rising in his throat, but the moment he thinks back on his dream he leans over the side of his bed and retches.

His head burns, throat stings from the acid that makes his mouth feel numb. Tears spring to his eyes.

Dizzily, he attempts to slide out of bed, but his body moves too slowly for him to trust it. He decides to stay in bed, calling out for Youngbin in the darkness of his bedroom.

The door opens a moment later, Youngbin poking his head inside before scrunching his face up when he sees the sick on the floor. The expression fades after a moment when Youngbin crosses the room to the other, making sure to avoid the mess on the floor as he checks the younger’s temperature with his palm. “You’re burning up...”

Sanghyuk nods, and Youngbin pulls his blankets off of him. “And you look gross.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, I mean, no offense,” Youngbin huffs, frowning when the other reaches his arms out towards him, “you can’t walk?”

“Dizzy.”

Youngbin shakes his head, tutting as he raises the other into his arms. Sanghyuk closes his eyes, wincing when he feels the nausea return before it subsides once again. He’d gotten spells like this occasionally, spurred by odd dreams such as the one he’d had that night.

One sticks with him, though, a fever dream that he swore was real.

  


_“What did I do!?”_

_“Calm down...”_

_“What did I fucking do?” He repeats, throat raw from screaming. “He- he won’t wake up! Youngbin, where’s Youngbin?”_

_The stranger shakes his head, raising his hands defensively. “He left a while ago, stay calm and I’ll bring him to the hospital, okay? It’ll be okay.”_

  


Sanghyuk can’t make out any faces in the dream, but he felt the pain when he’d screamed. Felt the anxiety skyrocket in his chest as the dream began.

Youngbin seems tense. His face is stern, analytical, seeming as if he’s having second thoughts about something. His hands are warm as he holds the younger dearly. Sanghyuk doesn’t want to disturb him, just closes his eyes as Youngbin takes him to wherever he’s going. He assumes the bathroom or his own bedroom, either to wash the sweat that clings to him off or to keep a closer eye on him through the night.

It’s the former. Sanghyuk hears the fan kick on when the light switch is flicked upwards, and Youngbin gently sets him down on the floor, leaning over him to run the bath. “I’ll be outside the door if you need me, okay?” He treats Sanghyuk like a child, but to Youngbin, that’s what he was. Not in a bad way, not even close. Youngbin just looked to everyone as if they were a child; innocent, cute, somebody he’d take care of. He himself was older, worn from the time he’d spent looking after everyone but himself.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. Youngbin narrows his eyes questioningly.

“For what?”

“Bothering you.”

Sanghyuk always felt bad when he’d required Youngbin’s help for something. He’d been a burden on the other for just about ten years. Since he was fourteen, he’d been taken care of by the older. Youngbin frowns, bringing a hand down to brush through the other’s hair. “You’re not bothering me at all. If you’re sick, I should help you. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” As an afterthought, he adds, “besides, I wasn’t sleeping. It’s better to make sure you’re okay than to just fuck around.”

Sanghyuk nods, thanking him as he leaves.

He stands, peeling off his clothes before stepping into the shower. The dizziness had slipped away for a moment, so he planned on being quick about cleaning up before it came back. He turns on the shower head, standing under the spray for a moment before turning into it, closing his eyes before soaking his face roughly.

* * *

  


Sanghyuk wakes up later that day wrapped in Youngbin’s blankets, groggily remembering the night before. It takes a moment to come back to him, but soon he’s shrugging off the comforter, slipping out of the bed to find Youngbin. He felt better, but still had an odd feeling about the dream he’d had the night before.

He finds Youngbin in the living room, speaking angrily into his phone. Chanhee was taking his last finals, Jaeyoon was back at work, and Youngkyun was getting high. He could smell the smoke when he passed his room, choked on it. Youngbin thought he was alone, and talked as if he was sure he was.

“You stay the fuck away from us.”

Sanghyuk stops walking, moving to lean against the wall so Youngbin can’t see him. The other paces around the living room, and no matter how hard Sanghyuk strains to hear the other end of the call, he can’t.

“You won’t. We both know you’re too pussy to come around here yourself.”

There’s anger in Youngbin’s voice that Sanghyuk had never heard before. It’s drowning underneath his confidence, boiling in his tone. “I’ll always be one step ahead of you, baby. No matter what you do; hurt me, cross me, fuck, you could _stab_ me and I’d still be able to take you out in seconds.”

Youngbin laughs. Sanghyuk brings a hand to his mouth, biting back a groan when he remembers Youngbin pinning him to the table. It was the same tone, same laugh, same everything. He would never outwardly admit it, but this side of Youngbin _terrified_ him.

He’d only met the demonic side of him once before angering him with the possibility of contacting Inseong. When he was sixteen, their first month in the legion had been a rough one. The previous demons didn’t take kindly to their leader taking in two “strays”, as Youngbin and Sanghyuk were called ever so coldly, and began to grow fond of picking on the youngest of the two.

Sanghyuk would hide the bruises and bite marks from Youngbin for weeks, until one night Youngbin saw him exit the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. The brunt of the torment he’d faced from the other demons, condensed to the skin on his back and throat, was exposed to the eighteen year old who had been caring for Sanghyuk for most of the time he could remember.

It wasn’t pretty. Sanghyuk had watched him snap somebody’s neck with the flick of his wrist, watched him break another demon’s arm just by grasping and twisting it. He’d been laughing as he did it, so angry that he appeared completely calm, save for his manic laughter and short rampage.

Nobody had stopped him, and nobody had messed with Sanghyuk again after Youngbin had proved his power to them.

“Seriously, you want to? Right now?”

There’s a short pause before Youngbin hisses out an answer to who he’s talking to. Sanghyuk looks around the corner to see that Youngbin’s twirling his switchblade between his fingers, sitting on the edge of the couch now rather than pacing. He seems focused on each flip of the blade, how the light hits it so beautifully, shimmering off of the steel. “Yeah, and I’ll tear you apart if you so much as touch a hair on Youngkyun’s head.”

The call ends. Youngbin drops his phone into his lap, sighing as he leans back. The knife stays poised in his hand, and he idly swipes at the empty space in front of himself before returning to spinning the weapon between his fingers.

Cautiously, Sanghyuk takes a few steps back, deciding he’d rather not alert Youngbin to the fact that he’d been listening in on his call. He reaches behind himself, feels for the light switch on the inside of the doorway to the bathroom, and flicks it on and off quickly. Youngbin snaps his head around to face him, red hair unkempt in a way that suited him nicely.

Sanghyuk smiles at him, as if he hadn’t heard the threats he’d made moments before, and approaches him slowly, falling beside him on the couch. He reaches over, pulling the blade from him, before placing his hand on his lap. Youngbin pouts.

“You don’t like it?”

“I think you’d be better off without it.”

“Hmm,” Youngbin nods thoughtfully, before expertly snaking an arm around Sanghyuk’s shoulders, drawing him closer while the other snatches the blade back while he’s distracted, “I disagree. How are you feeling?”

He keeps his arm looped around the other, but it falls from his shoulders to land next to him, so if Sanghyuk was to choose to leave, he wasn’t held down by the other. “Better, I’m just a bit out of it.”

“Still feeling like you’d want to pick Chanhee up?” Youngbin hums, sliding the blade down into the steel that holds it, sliding it into his jacket sleeve. Sanghyuk had seen him do it before, often when he knew they’d be doing something dangerous relatively soon, or when he was having anxiety about something bad happening. “He gets out in about ten minutes.”

“Jeez, it’s already that late?” Sanghyuk reaches for his phone, before remembering Youngbin still had it. The redhead seems to realize at the same time Sanghyuk does, grimacing.

“It’s in my room, shirt drawer of my dresser.”

Like a parent hiding their child’s toy that they’d grounded them from using. “Thanks.” Sanghyuk stands, leaving quickly to the other’s room to grab his phone. He returns to the living room a moment later, still in his shirt and sweats from the night before. He’d need to shower again.

“Ten minutes?”

Youngbin nods while he sits forward. “I can go grab him, it’s no big deal.”

“No, no, I’ve got it.”

Youngbin looks up to Sanghyuk, smiling nervously. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

The only reason Sanghyuk was so adamant on his decision was because he wouldn’t be strong enough to protect Youngkyun had someone broken into the apartment. And, after overhearing Youngbin’s call, he didn’t want to take any chances. “It’ll be fine.”

“Okay...” Youngbin agrees hesitantly, leaning back against the couch again. Sanghyuk turns to leave, but Youngbin’s hand shoots out and grabs his wrist before he can so much as take another step. “Wait.”

“Huh?”

“Just...” Youngbin shakes his head. “Be careful, okay?”

“Of course,” Sanghyuk nods, his fingers stroking Youngbin’s wrist, “what’s got you so worked up?”

Hoping to encourage the other enough to tell him what his call was about, Sanghyuk tries to start the conversation. Youngbin shakes his head, smiling. “Nothing, ‘Hyuk.”

There’s suspicion in Youngbin’s eyes when Sanghyuk walks away. Clearly, he had an idea that the other had caught at least the end of his call, but he wouldn’t bring it up himself.

Sanghyuk leaves the apartment, mind fogged from the dream that still holds his mind captive.

  


Chanhee shrugs off his bag as he slides into the car, pulling it into his lap as he situates himself and shuts the door. Sanghyuk smiles at him, turning the previously blaring radio down in an attempt to talk to the other. “How was your day?”

“Sucked. Can we go home?”

Chanhee looks like he’s hiding from somebody. He sinks down into his seat, and uses his bag as a barrier between himself and the windshield.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine, I just want to go home.”

Sanghyuk nods, pulling away from the school as he begins to drive back to the apartment. “Do you… I don’t know...”

“What?”

“Do you want to go get dinner or something tonight? The other’s don’t have to come if you don’t want them to.”

Chanhee’s eyes seem to light up. “Can we go to that new place that just opened up down the street? With the roast chicken?”

“Wherever you want to go.” Sanghyuk smiles, the other beginning to ramble excitedly next to him. He still hides from the windows and the prying eyes of the public, but he’s opening up quickly, the nerves that bounced in his tone before settling underneath his happiness.

  


* * *

  


“Ten bucks says I can get her to serve me a whiskey.”

“Youngkyun, fucking relax.” Sanghyuk leans back, raising his eyebrows, “let’s make it twenty. I don’t believe in you.”

The younger shrugs. “You’re the one who’s gonna be out a twenty.”

Chanhee smiles happily, kicking his legs underneath the table. He and Youngkyun sit across from Sanghyuk and Jaeyoon, who had walked away a moment ago and hadn’t said where he was going.

The restaurant is busy, which comes as a shock to the group. A Sunday night wasn’t typically when people were going out for a nice dinner, but Sanghyuk supposes that it isn’t odd. He was out just as they were.

When the waitress begins to walk back over, Jaeyoon slips back into his seat as if he’d been there the whole time. Sanghyuk can see the characters of a phone number trailing across his arm, but Jaeyoon pulls his sleeve down to hide it quickly.

The waitress asks everyone what they’d like to drink, and they answer in order of oldest to youngest. When Youngkyun goes, and the waitress asks for his ID, he smiles before reaching into his back pocket, handing her his card. When she looks back up from it, shock in her eyes, Chanhee meets her gaze.

“He’s twenty one.”

Sanghyuk’s jaw drops. Chanhee orders his drink, takes the ID back from the waitress, and hands it obediently back to Youngkyun. “You planned that.”

“No we didn’t,” Youngkyun outstretches his hand, “you owe me a twenty.”

“Fuckin’… Fine,” Sanghyuk grumbles as he pulls the crumpled bill out of his pocket, dropping it unceremoniously into the brunette’s hand, “take it.”

Happily, Youngkyun takes it. Chanhee looks to him, lips drawn together tightly. “I expect at least five.”

“You’ll get your share,” Youngkyun teases, “after all...” Sanghyuk kicks Youngkyun’s leg harshly to force him to discontinue his statement. They all knew where it was headed.

“We are in a nice _fucking_ restaurant. As a _family_. I don’t want to hear about your fucking night plans.”

“That’s a polite way to put it.” Jaeyoon points out, typing something out on his phone. It was the first time he’d pitched into a conversation, disregarding him speaking to the waitress. “I need to make some night plans...”

“What-”

“Oh my God,” Youngkyun leans forward, peeling Jaeyoon’s jacket sleeve up, “with them?”

They all eye the number. Jaeyoon flushes, hiding it with his empty hand quickly. “Maybe...”

“Who!?” Chanhee looks towards the bar, then towards a cluster of booths across the room from their table.

“You don’t need to know that, kid.”

Huffing, the younger leans back in his seat. Sanghyuk glances at the menu in front of him. “Do you want me to get you a kid’s menu?”

“What!? No, why?” Chanhee fumes. Youngkyun hides his laugh in his hand, eyes squeezed shut.

“But they come with crayons,” Sanghyuk begins, leaning back. There’s disinterest in his tone, and that in itself grabs Chanhee’s attention violently.

The younger has a face like a cherry. Red, cheeks puffed out, he responds with cold words. “I’m not interested in your fucking crayons.”

  


Angrily, Chanhee uses a blue crayon to write a note back to Youngkyun on the menu they were sharing between them. His grip around it is tight, writing with a fist protecting the blue crayon. He’d take it to the grave with him, surely. Youngkyun writes back with a red, stops to grab a piece of chicken from the basket in front of Chanhee, and chokes when he sees what the other had written to him.

Sanghyuk smiles, looking fondly at the two before turning his attention to Jaeyoon.

“Why didn’t Youngbin come?” He whispers, keeping his voice low, “he was more excited for Chanhee’s last day than any of the rest of us.”

Jaeyoon turns to look at Sanghyuk, shrugging. “He wasn’t home.”

“He wasn’t home? He told me he didn’t have plans tonight when I texted him.”

“Don’t know, I’m not too worried though.”

Sanghyuk nods, but his phone feels heavy in his pocket. He had the feeling that something was about to go horribly, horribly wrong. It would work its way out from the inside of their family, first taking out the support before it went for the youngest links.

“Sanghyuk?”

“Yeah?” He glances up to Chanhee, who’s pointing a french fry at him with an accusatory flourish. A bead of ketchup hangs on the edge of it, dangerously close to slipping off and onto the table.

“You aren’t eating, what’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing, I’m eating.” Sanghyuk glances down at the steak he’d ordered, which he’d had yet to cut into though it had been served to the table well over five minutes ago.

“You’re not.” Youngkyun agrees, takes a long sip of his drink so he can avoid answering anything Sanghyuk may say in response.

The demon scoffs, carding a hand through his black hair. Jaeyoon watches with amusement in his eyes, resting his cheek on his palm and his elbow on the table. “The kids are ganging up on me...”

From where he’s doodling a flower with his yellow crayon, Chanhee looks up angrily. “We are _not_ children.”

Youngkyun grumbles in disagreement to Sanghyuk’s statement as he bites down on his fork, onto which he’d pushed as much of his mac and cheese as he could.

Jaeyoon laughs, reaching over to pat Sanghyuk’s shoulder reassuringly. “They’re men.”

“They...” Sanghyuk shakes his head, finally picking up his fork and knife when Chanhee and Youngkyun go back to writing their sappy love-stricken notes to each other on the colorful kid’s menu. “They’re something.”

  


* * *

  


_“It hurts.” He whimpers, fingers clawing at_ **VOID** **NA** **ME** _’s_ _shirt_ _. The knife lodges itself further in his stomach; he’s the victim of his own struggling. “_ **VOID NAME** _, please, please don’t do this...”_

_The_ _leader_ _looks down at him,_ _humor_ _written across his face._ _He’s having too good of a time with this._ _“You did this to yourself.”_

_He falls back against the wall,_ _whining at the feeling of the blade in his skin. “_ Please _,” he begs, feeling a drop of blood slide past his lips, “please stop.”_

_“Alright,_ _fine…_ _I suppose I can make it a little easier...” He crouches down, wrapping his slender fingers around the steel that had encased the blade before he’d stabbed the other, dropping him in seconds in the vacant halls. He pulls it out slowly, earning a groan to pass the other’s lips. Blood drips from the wound,_ _staining his clothes and the floor underneath him red when it begins to pool there._

_“Th-thank you...” He whispers, eyelids fluttering shut before they’re thrown back open. He screams after the knife is planted firmly into his chest, underneath his heart by enough not to damage it. “_ Fuck! _” He screams, throwing himself back against the wall as he writhes, hands pressing against the first wound to avoid_ _bleeding out._

**VOID NAME** _sighs, brushing his fingers through the other’s hair. “You’re an obstacle, you know? Nothing personal though.”_


	7. in a hotel room where demons play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; violence, gore

“Sanghyuk?”

The demon looks up, raising an eyebrow at Youngbin as he encourages him to continue. The air between them is static, tense. When Youngbin takes a deep breath, Sanghyuk realizes that it’s serious, and sits up from where he’d been laying on his bed. The leader steps into the dark room, shutting the door behind himself so the two are nearly completely shrouded in darkness. The only light comes from the windows, which are almost all covered by blankets Sanghyuk had tacked against them days before.

The only source of light is a rectangle on the floor, that filters in from the corner of one of the windows. The room is silent, dark and tense. Sanghyuk turns to look to the bed beside himself when he feels it dip, though he can only see the other’s silhouette in the darkness.

“I need to talk to you.”

“What’s going on?” Sanghyuk smiles, reaching over to grab Youngbin’s hand. “We can talk, sure.”

The leader shakes his hand away, but before Sanghyuk can feel any sort of dejected from the actions, he feels the other’s arm wrap slowly around his shoulders, drawing him into Youngbin’s side softly. Sanghyuk thinks he hears his breath hitch, but he can’t be sure. Youngbin had never cried in front of Sanghyuk.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Sanghyuk shifts, blinking and squinting in an attempt to make out the other’s face. He wonders if Youngbin had shrouded them in darkness on purpose, so he’d be able to hide his expression easier. “And I know that things haven’t been easy for you for a little while.”

“I don’t...” Sanghyuk’s voice trails off, but Youngbin waits for him to finish. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re scared. And, I probably caused that fear when I lashed out at you the other night. In all honesty, I was scared, too.” He laughs humorlessly, and Sanghyuk freezes when he hears him sniffle. Youngbin _didn’t_ cry. If he was crying, then something horribly, horribly wrong was happening. “And I’m still scared.”

Moving closer to him, Sanghyuk reaches down to grab his free hand. He feels Youngbin’s fingers trembling, his stoic nature finally breaking down at Sanghyuk’s touch. His voice stays flat, never wavering, though it is interrupted by the occasional quivering breath that Youngbin needs to take to compose himself. “But I can’t let that stop me, right? I need to protect you, and Chanhee, and Youngkyun and Jaeyoon.” He says their names as if they’re curses, whispering them as if the shadows will come alive at the sound of them.

“I can’t explain myself now. There’s only so little time left before I have to go,” Youngbin’s voice finally cracks, “I just need you to know that I did it all to protect you, okay? I need you to know that you’re always my first priority, no matter what. Okay, Sanghyuk?”

The name turns to satin, slipping from his lips easily, painfully so. It’s as if he’d said it for the final time.

“Yeah...” Sanghyuk nods, hears the other finally choke on a sob. “Youngbin, what’s wrong? Please, tell me what’s going on...”

“I want to,” he laughs again, but this time it’s broken up by his sniffling, his cries that he tries to muffle, breaking his hand away from Sanghyuk’s so he can bring it to his face “I really want to. I just can’t...”

He bites back another sob, burying his face into his hand to conceal it. “Fuck, now I’m crying in front of you...”

“Don’t start with that shit,” Sanghyuk hisses, leaning over to rub his thumb against the other’s cheek, “stop acting like the adult for once.”

At Sanghyuk’s command, Youngbin breaks down. “I can’t,” he sobs, “I can’t do this!”

“Do what? Youngbin,” Sanghyuk feels the other’s grip on his shoulder slacken, and when it does he slips closer to him, grabbing the front of his shirt in his fists tightly. “What are you doing?”

“I...” Youngbin takes a shaking breath, his exhale exploding into another flurry of sobs, “I can’t keep lying to you.”

His head falls onto Sanghyuk’s shoulder, and he scoffs pitifully, staring at the light on the floor. Sanghyuk follows his gaze. “I love you so much, Sanghyuk.”

“Youngbin...”

The other sits up, grabbing Sanghyuk’s hands softly. “I watched you grow up, you know? You’re like a little brother to me.” Sanghyuk can barely make out a ghostly smile on Youngbin’s face. He looks older in the darkness, like a spirit that’s seen far too much. “I took good enough care of you… Right? I know I was harsh, but… I just-”

“-You were great, Youngbin.” Sanghyuk can’t help but feel he’s saying his final words to the other. Seeing Youngbin cry has him on the verge of tears as well. “I’m who I am today because of you.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” Youngbin quips, to which Sanghyuk laughs softly. “But...” He sighs, swallowing thickly, “I’ve been awful.”

“What-”

Youngbin’s hand shoots out, fingers clawing at his shirt before making their way up to his throat, sliding up still until they’re drifting up Sanghyuk’s cheeks before resting in his hair, tangled among the strands of his dark hair. “-Jaeyoon and I are leaving.”

His voice is suddenly calm, as if the sudden burst of movement had caused him to contain each sob, each stray tear that threatened to leak from his eyes. “But I need you to promise me that you’re going to protect Chanhee and Youngkyun when we go.”

“What?” Sanghyuk’s growing agitated, the combination of his fear, confusion and anxiety building up into something darker, something overwhelming. It seizes his throat and he chokes up, staring wide eyed at Youngbin. “Where are you going?”

Youngbin shakes his head. “The man who took Jaeyoon before has been contacting me.” He’s back to his prior self, the commander that Sanghyuk had grown up knowing. “He started threatening us with a war; we’re going to end it before it starts.”

Sanghyuk feels lightheaded. “You’ll die.”

“That’s why you’re staying here. If we don’t come back by tonight, you need to take the kids and get out of here.”

 _The kids_. The college student and the high school “graduate” that would never receive his diploma. _The kids_. “No, Youngbin _no_. We need you, we’ll go together. All of us, they won’t find us.”

“Sanghyuk,” Youngbin barks, earning a soft gasp from the younger, “ _please_ , just take them and get the fuck out of here if we aren’t home by midnight, okay?”

There’s a soft knock on the door, and Youngbin turns to watch Jaeyoon push it open. Sanghyuk freezes, shaking his head. “No… No, Jaeyoon, tell him he’s crazy.”

“We need to go,” Jaeyoon whispers, turning to look back towards Youngkyun’s room, “ _now_.”

Youngbin nods, and before he gets up, wraps Sanghyuk tightly in his arms.

“I’m so proud of you, ‘Hyuk.”

“Please don’t go...” Sanghyuk whispers, arms flying around Youngbin. He feels if his grip is tight enough, Youngbin will be forced to stay with him, won’t leave just to get himself killed. “Please, please stay here. They need you, I can’t take care of them on my own!” His voice comes out as a whimper, and when Youngbin begins pulling away his tone only increases in desperation. “ _Please_ , Youngbin! _I_ need you!”

The leader bites his lip, slowly standing. Sanghyuk reaches out to grab his hand, but stops when Youngbin slides his switchblade out of his sleeve.

“Take this,” he smiles, slowly pressing the cold steel sheath into Sanghyuk’s hand, “don’t scratch the blade, okay?”

“Don’t fucking go.” Sanghyuk feels himself slide the knife into his sleeve, just as Youngbin had always told him to. “Please, please don’t leave me.”

_Youngbin looks down at the stranger, cautiously raising his hand. The boy does the same, and when the spark flies between them, warming their hands briefly in the freezing sleet that comes down around them, Youngbin carelessly throws his arms around the boy and pulls him against his coat. He’s shivering, bare hands hugging the older’s waist._

_“I thought I was the only one...”_

Youngbin turns around, ghostly body fading into the darkness before reappearing as a shadow besides Jaeyoon. “Youngbin!” Sanghyuk shouts, stumbling forwards off of the bed.

Twelve years of memories wash over him in seconds, leaving him reeling as he crumples to the floor, forced to watch Youngbin’s stoic face as he turns to look at him one last time. “Please don’t do this,” he pleads, throat burning from the breaths he can’t bring himself to take.

_“It’s simple fucking algebra, Sanghyuk.”_

_“I don’t know how to solve it...”_

_Youngbin pulls up a chair, gently pulling the notebook from the other’s lap. “Here,” he mumbles, guiding the other’s hand to the page, the pencil in Sanghyuk’s fingers pressing down as Youngbin begins to write using the other’s hand, “it’ll make sense soon, I’ll show you how.”_

Youngbin stands, staring over his shoulder at Sanghyuk. Part of him urges him to stay, to stay with the only family he’d ever known that’s staring up at him from the floor. The other half of him knows that if he stays, he’ll kill them, and he painfully tears his gaze away and rushes to catch up to Jaeyoon, who’s already halfway out the door.

“ _Youngbin_!” Sanghyuk screams, finally feeling the tears start to fall. They hit the floor roughly, slipping into the darkness before disappearing completely.

_“I know where we can go,” Youngbin starts, rushing into the house one day. The door swings shut loudly behind him, startling Sanghyuk from where he’s laying on the couch. He’d stayed home from school that day, complaining he’d been sick. “I found a legion.”_

_At the news, Sanghyuk sits up, the blankets that had once been so tightly wrapped around him falling to the ground. Years upon years of searching had led to this moment. Youngbin laughs, disbelief in his eyes as he recounts that night’s events to the younger, about how he’d been trapped by hunters, that they’d given him information in return they protect a child in case they couldn’t._

_Sanghyuk gasps when Youngbin collapses on top of him, laughing and_ _cheering with excitement. “We’re going to finally belong, Sanghyuk,” he whispers, wrapping his arms tightly around the boy he’d begun to raise as if they were blood, “we’re going to belong.”_

The front door shuts. Sanghyuk stares at the ground, silent tears streaming down his face as he realizes that he’ll never see Youngbin or Jaeyoon again.

There was no coming back from the beginning of a war.

* * *

“I love you, I’m sorry,” Juho repeats dumbly, standing in front of Taeyang’s door. His fist is raised to knock, his other hand stuffed with a thoughtfully prepared bouquet of tea roses and sweet peas, flowers Seokwoo had shown an interest to when Juho had taken him to a greenhouse on one of their first dates.

It had been years ago, but he remembers the scene as if it were yesterday; the way Seokwoo’s fingers brushed gently through the petals, lips parted softly with fascination as he admired the plants surrounding him. Juho had followed behind him, just a bug drawn to the beauty of the captivating flower in front of him.

He knocks on the door.

Nobody answers.

“Okay...” He murmurs, rapping his knuckles against the door once more. There’s, again, no reply, but he stiffens when the door creaks. It begins to slide open, before falling inwards off of the hinges. It crashes into the apartment with a loud bang, startling one of the neighbor’s dogs, which begins barking erratically at the unknown noise.

The lights are off, flickering eerily, and the metallic scent of blood wafts immediately into the hall. Though he should, by default, enjoy the scent, Juho only feels anxiety bubble up in his stomach as he steps over the door and into the apartment.

The shades are drawn closed, and a lamp near the door hangs over the edge of the table it was seated upon, suspended dangerously by its power cord. The bulb that had once been hidden inside the lampshade is shattered on the floor, and Juho steps on it as he tries to enter the apartment further, the horrible sound of crackling glass being the only thing to attempt to break the silence.

A couch is overturned in the living room, cushions torn to shreds on the floor in front of it. The TV is shattered, spiderwebs in the remaining glass while most of it lays in front of the cabinet the device sits on in a pile. A bloodied hand print drags against the wall, stopping at a curtain, which faintly reveals the city outside.

“Seok’?” He calls, his hands sweating from the fear he feels. “Please… Oh, my God,” he whispers, turning a corner to be greeted with the sight of blood spattering a wall, a message written crudely for Juho in the repulsive red liquid.

 _IT’S_ _YOUR TURN._

From behind the wall, even the neighbor’s dog has stopped its incessant whining.

A body lays underneath the message, sitting up flat against the wall with its arms at its sides, hands facing upwards with exposed palms.

Juho stares at it with bated breath, taking a hesitant step forward so he’s in reach of the man.

“No,” he whispers, collapsing to his knees, “not you.” He can only feel the flower stems in his hand, as if they’re mocking him. _You’re too late. This is your fault._ “Don’t...”

He reaches forward, fingers trailing down the side of his face. “Not you.” He breathes, coming closer to press his ear against the other’s chest, listening for any sign of a pulse. He pulls away with nothing, unable to do anything but stare at the same flowery expression he’d seen in the greenhouse years before. “Not you, Seokwoo.”

His eyes are closed, lips pressed softly together. His head is tilted back to reveal a line of bruises beginning to form on his throat from where somebody had grabbed him.

Juho’s hand falls from the boy’s cheek, falling to one of his hands, desperate in his attempt to wrap his fingers around the other’s, as they’d done countless times before. His skin is cold, it’s far too late to bring him back. And, even if it wasn’t, Juho probably wouldn’t.

Seokwoo didn’t deserve this fate.

“This is all my fault.” Juho whispers, eyes locked on the lids of his lost lover’s. He holds his hand, staring blankly at the other’s peaceful expression. “I...”

His heart wrenches. He’d dragged Seokwoo into a life he didn’t want, need or deserve. He’d put him through so much bullshit, and now he was dead, the first time he’d been able to finally get away.

“I killed you.” he mumbles, his tongue a weight in his mouth that he’s barely able to move.

_“_ _I can’t believe you’re here,” Seokwoo smiles, reaching forward to grab Juho’s hand from over the table, “after all these years...”_

_Juho ducks his head, bashful at the other’s sudden affection. “You know, I thought about you a lot...”_

_“Really?”_

_“You saved my life...”_

“All you did for me,” Juho shakes his head, feeling a stray tear roll down his cheek, “and I couldn’t even _guard_ you...”

He’s numb, blind to anything but Seokwoo.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, shaking his head slowly.

_“I’m scared I’ll hurt you,” Juho whispers, eyes wide as he brings a hand up to his mouth, “I can’t.”_

_Seokwoo huffs, grabbing his hand before urging Juho to sit beside him on the bed. “I want you to,” he insists, cocking his head to the side to reveal the soft slope of his neck to the other, “I want you to.” He repeats, voice stern._

_Softly, Juho leans forward, shivering when his lips brush against the other’s neck. He throws himself backwards, shaking his head furiously. Tears spring into his eyes; he’s on the verge of sobbing, memories being drudged up that he’d much rather forget. “I can’t,” he chokes, bringing his hands up to hide his face, “I won’t hurt you.”_

_The human nods, gently pulling Juho into his arms. “It’s okay,” he whispers, fingers stroking his back comfortingly, “you don’t have to, it’s okay.”_

“You never fucking stood up for yourself until the end,” Juho starts suddenly, bitterly, biting his lip, “you always just let me _use_ you...” The tears come down harder. “Why didn’t you run?”

Juho waits as if the body will answer him. As if Seokwoo will reach upwards and card his fingers through his hair like he always did when Juho started bothering him.

“Why didn’t you run!?” He shouts, tearing his hand away from Seokwoo’s to rub viciously at his eyes, trying roughly to stop himself from crying.

He takes a slow breath in, exhaling sharply as he looks back to Seokwoo.

_“You’re...” Juho breathes, taking his time with each word to mull it over, “you’re my Seokwoo.”_

_The brunette scoffs. “I’m not your anything.”_

“Seokwoo...” He laments, head cocked slowly to the side. Something snaps in him, and all he can think of is how good it’ll feel to watch the life drain from Sanghyuk’s eyes. It had to have been him; he’d made the first move, finally had enough of listening to Youngbin controlling him. “My Seokwoo...”

* * *

Late in the day, Sanghyuk finds himself ushering Chanhee and Youngkyun to pack their bags.

“Why are we leaving?” Chanhee questions, anger lacing his tone. “Where’s Youngbin and Jaeyoon?”

“Jaeyoon’s not coming?” Youngkyun’s head snaps up, “where’s Jaeyoon?”

Sanghyuk’s too exhausted to deal with their questions, just shakes his head. They seem to understand that it’s something serious, and Sanghyuk’s thankful that they’re at least listening to his command to get all of their things together. He’s exhausted, eyes bloodshot from crying, but he stays strong for the two others in the home with him. He needs to shoulder their pain now, needs to hold them up as Youngbin had done for him so many times before.

The front door opens. Quickly, Sanghyuk peeks around the corner to see if it was Youngbin, excitement flaring in his chest until… Nothing. He looks over to Youngkyun’s bedroom door, where he and Chanhee aimlessly chat as they try shoving one of Youngkyun’s sweaters into his already stuffed bag.

“Chanhee?” Sanghyuk smiles, feeling his heart begin to pound nervously, “please shut the door.”

“Why?”

“Fucking shut the door, and keep an eye on Youngkyun.”

Chanhee nods, slowly obliging, and Sanghyuk doesn’t move from his spot until he hears the lock click into place.

“Where the fuck are you!?” He shouts, hearing footsteps in the kitchen. He slides Youngbin’s knife out of his sleeve, flicking the blade into use as he begins to walk cautiously towards the noise. “Come on!” He screams, standing readily behind the wall, staring at the space where the kitchen met the living room.

He’s on his ass in a second, a blonde kicking him to the ground before wrestling the knife from his grip. His movements are fast, erratic; half-ling-esque.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” the boy chirps, twirling the knife around, “where’s Chanhee?”

Sanghyuk stares up at him, shock clear across his face.

“Taeyang..?”

The boy stares down at him, smirking. “You remember me? I’m flattered.”

“You… You’re dead,” Sanghyuk whispers, shaking his head, “you _died_.”

The blonde laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s the case, considering our position right now.” He leans down, pinning Sanghyuk’s wrists above his head with one hand. “Let’s have some fun, yeah?”

He brings his hand down swiftly, the knife burying itself into Sanghyuk’s chest. He screams, writhing underneath the boy he’d met years before. “I suppose I should tell you what happened, huh?” Taeyang tears the knife out of the wound, shoving it back down into it after a moment of letting it bleed. “After Youngbin claimed me, the legion started having suspicions that I was a human. And, you know, they caught on pretty fast!”

Once again, he rips the blade out of Sanghyuk’s chest, but instead of burying it in his flesh again, he brings the knife to his lips, licking the blood off of it slowly, never breaking eye contact with the helpless demon beneath him. “Since Juho was the one who brought me in, he dealt the punishment for it.” His tongue swipes across the steel again, before he leans down to stroke Sanghyuk’s cheek with the tip of the blade. “He turned me, in front of Youngbin. And do you know what you were doing while it all happened?”

Sanghyuk struggles, trembling underneath the other.

“You were off fucking that human bitch of yours, Inseong? Remember him?”

Sanghyuk’s eyes widen. “Wh… What are you…?”

The blade slices into his cheek. “Ah, you’re right, you wouldn’t know, would you? Since Youngbin ate your memories… What a shame.”

Sanghyuk’s frozen underneath Taeyang, eyes widened as he stares up at him. “I feel bad for you,” the blonde remarks, “you’re just a sad, _sad_ little demon fuck. Just like always, huh? Guess some things never change.”

Taeyang sits back, sliding off of Sanghyuk. The older sits up shakily, eyes narrowed as he struggles to his feet. _Youngbin ate my memories?_ “Why are you doing this?”

“Because your friends killed my friend, and now I want revenge. Although, there are some angels who’d _love_ to get their hands on a pure soul like your human friend’s, so maybe hand him over and I let you and the other little rat go?”

At Sanghyuk’s silence, Taeyang raises Youngbin’s knife. “No? Well, alright, I’ll just take it for myself.”

Before he can move, Chanhee throws himself at him, both of them flying backwards and into the kitchen table. The knife clatters on the floor, and Sanghyuk grabs it, staring at the two wrestling for control on top of the broken table. A sharp piece of wood the size of his fist has buried itself in Chanhee’s side, but he’s still pinning the other to the scraps, hissing out cusses as he turns to Sanghyuk.

“Get Youngkyun out of here!”

Sanghyuk’s ready to turn and obey, but remembers his promise to Youngbin, and quickly shoves Chanhee out of harm’s way as he takes his place. “ _You_ get Youngkyun out of here! I’ll find you, just go!”

Chanhee stares, watches as Sanghyuk raises the knife, and turns to get Youngkyun, shaking at the sound of the screams behind him.


	8. Haunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; extreme violence, gore, torture

Juho leaves the bouquet on Seokwoo’s lap, challenging his eternal beauty with the soft petals. The stalks had begun to droop, as if weeping.

It doesn’t cross his mind to question where Taeyang was when Seokwoo was attacked, just that Sanghyuk was to blame. Wasn’t it always that way? Sanghyuk had brought all of the pain, the suffering, and now he would pay.

His shoes crush the broken light bulb once again as he plans to leave, but halfway through the door, he stops. Juho backtracks to Seokwoo, stooping in front of him to plant a gentle kiss against his forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers, gently reaching forward to cup Seokwoo’s cheek, “I’ll always love you.” He hadn’t said it when he’d last seen Seokwoo; watching him leave the kitchen on his way to Taeyang’s apartment. His last ‘I love you’ was spoken to the empty space in front of himself.

Juho leaves, head hung with shame. How would he tell Inseong?

Part of him doesn’t feel the need to inform Seokwoo’s best friend. Why should he care? He’d only hung around the miserable human because Seokwoo had wanted him to; what was to stop him from tearing Inseong’s throat open, drinking all of what he could of the other’s blood to prepare for the fight ahead of himself?

His feet carry him towards Inseong’s apartment. The sky had gone dark, and the city was eerily quiet, holding its breath for the night ahead. It knew something big was coming, something that would leave anyone caught in the crossfire dead on the pavement. There’s blood on Juho’s hands, it had been soaking Seokwoo’s hands and chest, but he doesn’t care.

He can’t help but mull over their last conversation, and after he’s exhausted himself of it, to the conversation before that, on Inseong’s couch as they tried to give the man his memories back. He worries over Seokwoo’s, ‘ _We have things to do today_ ’, followed by his curt ‘ _Nothing. Never mind. Go on with your work_ ’, when Juho had questioned him. The day, a warm day between spring and summer, the haze of the city thick… Juho wonders what Seokwoo was talking about, before it hits him.

_It was your anniversary._

Juho stumbles, catching himself against the side of a bakery. His hand shoots out in an attempt to steel himself, bloodied fingers leaving a nasty mark against the glass display. He stares forward, horror tearing through him as he realized what the day meant to Seokwoo. _It was your fucking anniversary_.

“Oh my God...” He whispers, disbelief lacing his words, “oh my fucking God...”

He _was_ a monster. In every way, he couldn’t have been any worse.

He’d watched Seokwoo leave on their anniversary, their third anniversary, and he’d said _nothing_.

* * *

  


Sanghyuk stares down at Taeyang, panting as he slams the knife into the wood next to the boy’s head.

“I won’t kill you,” he mutters, hearing the window in Youngkyun’s room slide open. He listens as something hits the fire escape, a metallic clang whispering silently throughout the apartment. They were going to run using the stairs on the escape, so Sanghyuk knows they won’t see any of what’s going to come next. He shifts forwards, hands reaching down to seize Taeyang’s wrists, “but you need to tell me what Youngbin took.”

“Why should I?” The blonde sneers. Sanghyuk lets go of one of his wrists, shrugging before he slams his fist into the half-ling’s face. Taeyang shrieks, and when Sanghyuk pulls his hand away he sees blood pouring from the other’s nose. “Fuck!”

“Now…” Sanghyuk had seen Youngbin work enough to copy his tactics; not exactly perfectly, but well enough to get someone to talk. He takes the knife and brings it to Taeyang’s hand, placing the blade underneath one of the younger’s nails. The blonde stares up at him with wide eyes, unable to move in fear of the knife cutting deeper, “how about you tell me what you know?”

When Sanghyuk’s sure the other is going to break, Taeyang spits on him. The blonde smirks, watching the shock set in on Sanghyuk’s face. The ebony haired demon raises an eyebrow, brings up a hand to wipe the spit off of his cheek, and then buries the knife underneath Taeyang’s fingernail, tearing it upwards sharply until a sickening _pop_ resounds through the kitchen.

The boy screams, body writhing underneath Sanghyuk as his flesh comes away with the blade. “Now?” Sanghyuk hums, not phased by the small piece of flesh that falls onto the kitchen floor. Cries turn to whimpers, and Taeyang shakes as he takes in a sharp, shuddering breath.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “ _Fuck_ you!” Taeyang wails, the blood dripping from his nose to the floor, dribbling down his face in torrents. Sanghyuk doesn’t feel bad; he’d been after Chanhee, and he wasn’t about to let anybody touch the boy he’d been sworn to take care of. He’d die before anything bad happened to the younger.

Another time, the blade is pressed against the skin underneath one of Taeyang’s nails, the tip kissing the underside of his thumb this time. Sanghyuk sneers, leaning forward so he’s inches away from the other’s face. Without even asking for the answer he’s been searching for, he shoves the blade down and up, once again taking off one of Taeyang’s nails. He hears the flesh pop, smells the blood. Taeyang hisses, groaning and choking on the pain that he feels shooting up his hand. “You’re out two nails,” Sanghyuk begins, “I still have eight to go… You don’t want to know what’s next.”

“I won’t talk,” Taeyang stares up rebelliously, to which Sanghyuk shrugs and reaches forward, leveling the knife with Taeyang’s eye. He stills his hand, poising it at the ready in front of the blonde’s slowly widening eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Mm...” Taeyang grunts with discomfort, draws his lips tightly together, and stares forwards at the paper thin blade centimeters from his eye. Sanghyuk sees him start to tremble, smirking when the blonde takes a slow inhale, as if preparing to speak.

Though, he doesn’t. Sanghyuk brings the knife downward, pressing it to the thin layer of skin behind his lower eyelashes. Taeyang whimpers, closing his eyes tightly to avoid looking. “Tell me everything you know, and this will all be over,” Sanghyuk coos, watching the way Taeyang clenches and loosens his fingers, wanting to protect his remaining fingernails while not wanting to touch the gaping, bleeding wounds of those that he’d lost.

“I...” He’s losing his confidence; Sanghyuk can tell he’s teetering on the edge of his breaking point. “I...”

“Ah...” Sanghyuk reaches forwards, gently pressing his fingers against Taeyang’s cheek, “why don’t I just steal them from you..?” The thought hadn’t occurred to him before; he’d never have to use his abilities in a situation like this. “And while I’m in there...” Sanghyuk continues, tongue swiping across his lips. Taeyang notices, freezing at the notion of the movement.

“No!” Taeyang gasps, and Sanghyuk pulls the knife quickly away from his eye before he gets himself hurt when he begins to writhe underneath him. “I’ll talk!”

“Oh, now I’m wondering what kind of things you’re hiding...” Sanghyuk hums, stroking the other’s cheek gently. “How could you even stop me?”

Nonetheless, Sanghyuk leans back, drawing his hands down to hold down Taeyang’s wrists once again. “Tell me everything you know, kid.”

“Youngbin...” Taeyang sighs, making sure the blade isn’t anywhere close to him before he continues, “took your memories just before you met Chanhee.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Taeyang shakes his head, “I don’t know much more than that. We were never close. But, you used to be dating Inseong.”

The news hits Sanghyuk like a bullet. It leaves him stunned. “I… What?”

“You two were _dating_ ,” Taeyang stresses the point, groaning when he feels Sanghyuk slide off of him, “I guess. He was always around.”

Sanghyuk’s hands shake. He can only think back to the first day he’d met him, the anxiety that poured out of him through his actions obviously apparent to the both of them. But, it _wasn’t_ the first time he’d met Inseong. They were dating? They were _exes_? Inseong couldn’t have known- he had amnesia.

Unless he was lying.

His mind strays back to the dream he’d had the day before, and he feels sick. It was a memory; one that Youngbin hadn’t been able to seize from him. It stuck to his consciousness as if it were glued there. Sanghyuk had fed on people with memories such as that; they were always the sweetest, but he was never able to tear them away completely, just bury them. It must have been what Youngbin had done, hiding the remaining memory to avoid Sanghyuk suspecting something if he’d run into Inseong again.

“We...” He shakes his head, “we weren’t.

Taeyang rolls onto his side, and while Sanghyuk’s standing beside him, swings his leg out and knocks the demon to the ground. Sanghyuk gasps, unable to move when Taeyang slams his palm against his forehead, forcing him down. “Your turn.”

His free hand chases Sanghyuk’s, seizing his wrist as he wrestles him for Youngbin’s switchblade. Sanghyuk’s still in a daze from the information dropped on him, and the confusion as to why Youngbin would take those obviously dear memories from him.

Taeyang slips the blade into his palm, raises it up over his head, and brings it down as hard as he can into Sanghyuk’s chest.

  


* * *

  


Inseong rolls over, facing the wall as he kicks his blankets off. He couldn’t sleep; something felt wrong. Anxiety floods his chest, and he’s left breathless as he stares at the dull, gray walls of his bedroom.

He’s reminded of the hospital room he’d awoken in, of Seokwoo’s sobs when he’d been pulled away by the doctors, shocked at the man’s sudden awakening.

_“No! Let me see him!”_

_Inseong stares at the commotion, confused eyes drawn to the shouting brunette at the center of it all, a security guard wrestling him towards the doorway. “Inseong!”_

He smiles faintly, wondering how things would change now that he could remember everything. He could have a fresh start here, if he could deal with avoiding Sanghyuk. Him and Seokwoo, in the city… He almost laughs at the thought, only ever having known Seokwoo to be the rambunctious kid who dared the older to climb the trees in the woods with him after dark. There had been a time when they’d slipped out while Seokwoo’s parents were sleeping, walking down the long dirt road Seokwoo’s house was at the end of to get to the forest. They’d been seriously reprimanded, but together they were unbreakable.

Inseong sits up, sliding out of bed. His shirt hangs low on his collar, hair disheveled from his incessant tossing and turning. As he passes his dresser, he grabs his phone off of it to check the time. It was only nine, yet it felt so much later. He checks the notifications on his display, lips stuck out as he skims through them. The lights in his apartment are off, and he can only see what’s in front of him from the light of his phone, his face illuminated a sickly white from the device.

Most of the messages are things he’d expected; a text from Seokwoo complaining about how hot it was at Taeyang’s house, followed by a picture message, followed by an audio message, followed by another text that just reads, ‘ **you should come over.** ’

He continues walking, towards the kitchen, scrolling aimlessly through his texts. Below Seokwoo’s, though, buried by his other spam messages and calls, Inseong reads something that makes him freeze.

  


**UNKNOWN NUMBER: I need to see you. -Sanghyuk**

  


Inseong feels as if he’s going to throw up, and stops in front of the kitchen sink, where he’d been attempting to fill a glass of water that he promptly drops. The glass shatters in the porcelain sink, shards of glass soaring out of the tub. Some land on the floor, some on the counter, and some bounce off of Inseong’s hand, which trembles as he reads over the message.

“Sanghyuk...” He whispers, shaking his head. “No, no no no… I...”

Somebody throws open the front door. Inseong screams, turning roughly to press his back against the edge of the counter. Though, when he sees Juho standing still in his doorway, he relaxes. “Christ, Juho… Don’t do that to me.” Light floods in from the hall, exposing the mess that Inseong had on his kitchen table. He hadn’t left his room for the past few days after regaining his memories, just slept and thought glumly back on the time he’d spent with Sanghyuk.

“Inseong,” the man murmurs, head tilted to the side, “can you come here?”

Something dangerous lurks in his tone, and Inseong slowly shakes his head. “Um… No.” He smiles apologetically, reaching back into the sink, feeling for a piece of glass. He didn’t plan on arming himself until he saw the other’s eyes glint red, and so his fingers dance over the shards of glass until he finds the largest, thickest piece he can. “Sorry, what do you need?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Inseong notices his hands are caked in blood, and he shakes his head quickly. “I think you should go.”

Juho steps into the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind himself. Once again, Inseong is shrouded in darkness, only now there’s somebody else in it with him. “I just want to talk to you.”

There’s urgency in his tone, and Inseong feels himself slowly let go of the glass. Something tells him that the other doesn’t mean to scare him, that this is just how he normally is. Which, Inseong supposes is true.

“What’s going on?” He whispers, nervously smiling. “Is… Everything okay?”

Juho shakes his head. Inseong comes closer to him slowly, hands raised defensively. In the darkness of the apartment, he can just make out the other’s silhouette. “No,” he looks up to Inseong, his tone soft, “um… Seokwoo...”

Inseong pales, stopping just in front of the other. The way he’d uttered the name… “What? What’s wrong?” Panic rises in Inseong, evident in his tone, “where is Seokwoo?”

“He’s dead.”

Inseong doesn’t expect it, and it takes him a moment to process the words. “Dead...” He murmurs, as if it’s a foreign word he wasn’t quite familiar with. After a moment of thinking of the word, he looks back slowly to Juho, cautious eyes scanning the other for any tell of a lie. “You’re not serious.”

Juho bites his lip, staring at the ground. His silence is the only answer Inseong needs, and the silver haired boy reaches forward, grabbing Juho’s arms. “You’re lying,” he pleads, knowing that the other isn’t, “please, _please_ tell me you’re lying.”

“I wish I could,” Juho’s voice isn’t even loud enough to be considered a whisper. It’s a breath, a cracking breath that send Inseong to his knees. “I...”

A sob cuts through the quiet, and Juho looks down at the other, sucking in a soft breath through his teeth. “Inseong...” He crouches down, placing a hand comfortingly on the other’s back, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t...” Inseong chokes, drawn forward by one of Juho’s arms until he’s pressed firmly against the other’s chest, “you can’t blame yourself...”

Juho frowns, shaking his head slowly. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, to which Inseong cries harder against his shirt, body trembling. His chest rises and falls unevenly, hands gripping weakly at the other’s shirt. “I really am.”

_Sitting in front of the principal’s office, Seokwoo rubs his bandaged hands together, trying to warm them in the cold. Inseong storms down the hallway, grabbing his shoulder roughly as he turns him, looking down at him sternly._

_“Are you fucking kidding me, Seokwoo?”_

_The brunette smiles nervously, kicking his feet out in front of him as his older friend begins to scold him. “What have I told you about getting into fights!? Do you know how hurt you could have gotten?” He crouches down, taking Seokwoo’s hands to inspect the bandages. “Jeez…_ _How bad did you get ‘em?”_

_Seokwoo laughs, shaking his head. “Worse than they got me.”_

_“Fucking...” Inseong scoffs. “Call me next time, okay? Don’t just go rushing into things yourself… If you’re gonna fight, at least let me help you out.”_

_A teacher that had been passing by stares at the upperclassman with horrified eyes. Inseong smiles sheepishly back at her. “Just kidding,” he chuckles nervously, lying through his teeth, “just kidding...”_

  


* * *

  


“Keep going,” Chanhee places a hand over one of the railings, hauling himself over it before dropping ten feet onto the landing below. Three more left; they’d make it out before Sanghyuk did, “come _on_ , ‘Kyun!”

Youngkyun chases him down, sticking to the stairs that connect the metal escapes as he runs from their apartment. “I have a bad feeling about leaving him.” He calls nervously, passing Chanhee as he gets to the landing, following the stairs down again. Their bags watch them from the pavement below, where they’d landed after Chanhee hurled them over the edge. Youngkyun was praying for the other’s safety that his laptop inside his bag was safe.

“Fuck… Hurry up!” Chanhee grumbles, jumping down to the next landing before grabbing Youngkyun’s arm, crouching down. The brunette stares at Chanhee incredulously, until the younger pulls him forward. Hesitantly, the older slips onto his back, and Chanhee grabs one of his knees to hold him still as he throws himself off of the landing, falling two stories to the pavement below.

“ _Chanhee_!” Youngkyun shrieks, burying his face into the other’s shoulder, eyes shut tight as he waits to hit the sidewalk. Though, he only feels a slight bump when Chanhee finally slams into the ground, standing straight up moments after he hits the concrete. Storm clouds brew angrily in the sky, swelling in the ominous blackness above. “God...”

“You okay?”

“Don’t… Fucking do that without warning me!” Youngkyun huffs, slapping the other’s arm weakly before attempting to get off of his back. Chanhee holds him still, adjusting him and picks up their bags, before beginning to run. Youngkyun’s forced against his back, whining as he fears the other will trip. Again, he squeezes his eyes shut and prays Chanhee won’t drop him. The younger is in an uncomfortable position, a man on his back and heavy, clothing-filled bags in both hands, running through the darkness, but he’s sure he won’t stumble. His feet barely touch the ground as he glides across it.

Chanhee cuts through the alleys, looking around panicked for any sign of a familiar face. He wants Youngbin; wants his leader, his _friend,_ to tell him that everything’s going to be okay again. But he won’t. Sanghyuk had just cried when he’d been asked what the shouting was about, too hurt to actually explain what had happened between him and the two eldest members of their legion.

“Chanhee...” Youngkyun murmurs, causing the other to slow from a run to a light jog as he crosses through an alley to get to the other side of the block. “Look.”

“At what?” The younger continues to slow his pace, until he’s walking leisurely out of the dark alley and onto a main street. “There’s nothing here.”

“Exactly.”

The younger glares at the sidewalk around them. “Yeah… It’s dead,” he mumbles, hesitantly letting the human jump off of his back. Though, he loops his fingers around his, dragging him behind him defensively, “stay close to me.”

“But-”

“-Fucking do it.”

Youngkyun doesn’t argue, allowing the other to drag him slowly through the deserted streets. A crumpled newspaper rolls out of an overturned trashcan nearby, before it stops in the center of the street, untouched by traffic or interference by any person.

It’s as if the city holds its breath, watching, waiting to see whatever the two will do; or what will happen to them. The citizens can sense something wrong in the air, keeping them all in, locked safe and sound in their homes.

Chanhee stops abruptly, Youngkyun slamming into his back. “Chanhee!”

The younger doesn’t answer, but takes a step back, and when Youngkyun peers around his shoulder he sees two shadows thrown against the wall near them coming closer. He holds his breath, waiting for Chanhee to make a move, which he does when the two figures finally turn the corner and step onto the street.

Chanhee keeps his grip on Youngkyun tight as he bursts into the nearest alley, panicking as he finds a place to hide. Youngkyun cocks his head towards a cluster of trashcans and dumpsters, and Chanhee nods as he pushes the brunette into a crevice between two cans. He himself crouches behind the dumpster, staring out into the street as he tries to listen in on the other two.

They speak loudly; Youngkyun can hear it all just as well as Chanhee can from where they hide in the alley.

“How much do you think he’s paying for this?” The first voice asks.

“For some half-ling? Honestly, not much.” The second voice hums back with disinterest evident in their tone.

The two stop in front of the alley; Chanhee ducks back, pressing himself against the wall of the building the trashcans are owned by as he avoids being seen.

“Is he the only one we’re getting?”

“Yes, fucking Jesus. How many times do I have to tell you this, moron? _We_ get the knight, and Juho gets the bishop. After that, the pawn falls into place.”

There’s a short pause; Chanhee realizes he’s stopped breathing. Those code names were stupid, but he couldn’t tell who was who. Was it even about their legion? Had there been three all along? He hadn’t heard of any half-lings in the area... “And what about the king?”

“We don’t need to worry about him,” the second voice snickers, “he’s not a threat anymore.”

Slowly, the two walk on, and Chanhee lets out a quivering breath. Youngkyun slips around the corner of the can he’d been beside.

“Those were stupid code names.”

“I know.” Underfoot, a piece of paper crinkles, and Chanhee shifts uncomfortably. “We should get out of the city.”

“But what about Sanghyuk!?”

“He...” Chanhee blows his bangs out of his face, fingers raking through his soft hair harshly as he begins to feel anxiety course through him. He tangles his fingertips in the strands of his bangs, huffing. “He’ll find us, but we need to leave the city. It’ll be safer for us.”

“But-”

“-I’ve made up my mind.”

“I don’t have to listen to you!” Youngkyun snarls, reaching forward to grab the younger’s shirt, drawing him angrily towards himself. “ _Stop_ acting like you’re the leader.”

  


“A room for two,” Chanhee begins, eyes shimmering iridescent as he stares at the man behind the hotel desk, “with free wifi.”

“You’re pushing it...” Youngkyun grumbles, arms crossed as he stands obediently behind the smaller brunette. Chanhee smirks when, completely dazed, the worker begins to dig around for a room key.

When he hands the cards to Chanhee, the younger begins to list of a new chain of commands for the other to adhere to. “If anybody asks, we are your relatives, and you will pay for each night we’re here out of your own pocket.”

Finally, Chanhee snatches the keys, snickering as he reaches for Youngkyun’s hand, passing him a key before interlocking their fingers. “Easy.”

Youngkyun would hate to let the other know he was impressed, but it shows regardless through his features. He tightens his own fingers around Chanhee’s, looking around the hotel lobby as they walk through it. Luxurious white couches line the walls, surrounding a pool table. A fireplace sits on one side of the room, and on the other, a cluster of tables next to a currently closed breakfast station.

Something heavy hangs between the two, but neither want to bring it up. Chanhee, afraid for what had become of the rest of their family, has slowly begun to grow more obsessive on keeping his attention on Youngkyun, while the other only fears for the future. He doesn’t know what’s happened, but it would be better to find that out when Sanghyuk found them.

Chanhee gently presses the elevator buttons, pressing his shoulder against Youngkyun’s as they wait for the doors to open in front of them. He needed to have contact with him at all times; he wasn’t letting another friend slip away from him.

“Chanhee?” Youngkyun whispers finally, when they’re safely closed in the elevator, the prying eyes of the hotel gone from them. How odd it must have looked, two teenagers, sweating and scared, coming into a hotel and gaining access to a room while having not paid a single penny, lugging two over-sized backpacks with them.

The younger glances up through his eyelashes at Youngkyun, not bothering to raise his head. He looks exhausted; Youngkyun sighs, gently pulling Chanhee against himself. “I know you’re stronger than me, obviously, but it’s my turn to take care of you, okay?”

Only able to bring himself to nod, Chanhee hesitantly agrees. Youngkyun holds him closer, only letting him go once the elevator doors open. At that point, his arm falls over the other’s shoulders and he walks him towards their room’s door, his key between his fingers as they approach the last room in the hall.

The moment the door is open, Chanhee looks up before his eyes twinkle with excitement, and he quickly drags Youngkyun into the room. “It’s so nice!”

“Well, you did make him buy us a fancy one...”

“What a good choice I made.” Chanhee prides himself on his work, looking around the room. Youngkyun can tell he’s trying to distract himself from whatever must be happening inside the city they’d deserted, from what must be happening to their friends.

Youngkyun sighs, peeling off his shirt before dropping his bag. He rifles through it for a change of clothes, and makes quick work of stripping and changing while Chanhee’s too busy investigating the room to notice. He yawns, letting his hand drift along the blankets of the room’s bed, nodding at the softness of the comforter.

“It’s...” Chanhee begins, but shakes his head, cutting himself off. “Never mind. I’m gonna take a shower,” he whispers, setting his bag on the table on the other side of the room from Youngkyun. He pulls out a shirt, shorts, and boxers, balling the articles up in his hands anxiously, absentmindedly, as he looks around the room, suddenly dazed.

Youngkyun sits up, following Chanhee to the bathroom once he walks past the bed. He slips into the room behind him, the other not seeming to mind, before he sits on the closed toilet lid and takes Chanhee’s spare change of clothes from him, holding them in his lap.

“You don’t need to watch me,” Chanhee mumbles, stepping into the shower before he undresses, making sure the curtain is drawn between them as to hide him from the other, “I don’t need supervision.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Youngkyun hums, leaning back before closing his eyes, listening to the shower start once Chanhee’s dirty clothes are in a messy heap on the floor, “you look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Just hungry.” The younger sighs, stretching into the spray of scalding hot water, feeling better the moment he begins to get clean. “And tired.”

“We can get to sleep soon,” Youngkyun promises, eyes still shut as he relaxes, enjoying the way the steam begins to fog up the bathroom, “the bed’s soft.”

“That’s good.”

The room is warm, comfortable. Youngkyun nearly falls asleep right there, but when he realizes how close he is to it he forces his eyes open and sits forward. The small talk was working to take Chanhee’s mind off of things; he couldn’t just stop. “So… There’s only one bed...”

The younger scoffs. “You act like we don’t end up in each other’s beds almost every night.”

“Well!” Youngkyun huffs. “When you put it like that...”

“Oh, shut up.” Chanhee grumbles, cracking a smile as he reaches down to grab the hotel’s shampoo, applying it gently to his hair.

Humming in response, Youngkyun stands up and sets the other’s clothes on the wide bathroom counter, taking his own place in front of the sink. He turns on the cold water, splashing it into his face before reaching forward to wipe the fogged mirror, in an attempt to clear it.

It only works for a moment, as after, the steam instantly blankets the glass again.

Three minutes later, Chanhee’s stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped tightly around himself, leaning back to turn off the water. “Are you showering tonight?”

“I will in the morning,” Youngkyun murmurs, “I feel like I’ll fall asleep if I get too warm.”

Chanhee nods, grabbing his clothes before stepping back into the shower, pulling the curtain shut once again. Youngkyun smiles at how shy he is; finding it endearing. He’s happy the other isn’t as bold as he pretends to be in front of others; the quieter, innocent side of Chanhee is what Youngkyun loved. That was who Chanhee was, not the arrogant demon he pretended to be.

He steps out of the shower again in under a minute, trembling in his clothes.

“Are you cold?” Youngkyun reaches out for him with one hand, popping open the bathroom door with the other. Chanhee shrugs, and Youngkyun gently guides him to the bed, letting Chanhee take the closer side to the two while he walks around to the other.

He draws the younger into his arms immediately, resting his head against the nape of the other’s neck. The lights in the room are all practically off, save for the bathroom light, which barely even touches the bed. It’s easy to ignore, and it felt safer in the room with it on.

“Youngkyun...” Chanhee whispers, rolling over to look at the older. The long haired brunette cracks open an eye, glancing at the other, asking silently for him to continue. “Do you think the others are dead?”

The way he says it is heartbreaking. He doesn’t seem scared, just exhausted, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. His lips don’t tremble; the only tell of the pain he’s feeling inside is his tears, which he still tries to hold back.

“I...” Youngkyun shakes his head. “I don’t know. I have faith, though. We shouldn’t stop believing in them so quick, right?” He tries to cheer the other up, bringing a hand to his cheek to cup it gently. “Let’s have faith in them, they’re tough. Sanghyuk’s going to find us here, right? I’m sure he’ll be knocking on the door come morning.”

“But how will he even find us?”

Shrugging, Youngkyun pulls Chanhee against himself, letting the younger ball up his shirt in his fists. “He’ll figure it out, he isn’t a complete idiot.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Don’t be rude!” Youngkyun smiles, resting his chin atop the other’s head. “He’s only _kind_ of an airhead.”

Chanhee agrees with a nod, closing his eyes slowly as he buries his face into Youngkyun’s clothes. Youngkyun does the same, the other’s hair tickling his cheek as he rests his skin against the other’s head. The smell of lavender flits up from his still soaked hair, the clearly luxurious hotel soap having left a lasting mark on the other.

Slipping his arms downwards, Youngkyun loops them around Chanhee’s waist, sighing softly.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbles, opening his eyes when Chanhee stiffens, shoulders jumping to a defensive position. “Do you not like that?” His hands jump back up to the other’s back, allowing them to hover above the other’s skin as he waits for a response.

“No, no, you’re fine...” Chanhee reaches back, slowly bringing the other’s hands back to his waist. “I’m just… Nervous, is all.”

“We’ll be okay.” Youngkyun assures, shifting into a more comfortable position before closing his eyes again. “We’re together, right? That’s all that matters.”

“But what if we get hurt?” Chanhee murmurs, fear lacing his words. “What if _you_ get hurt and I can’t help you- what if one of us dies?”

“Neither of us are dying, Chanhee.” Youngkyun deadpans, frowning. His eyes shoot back open when he decides that he probably won’t be getting much sleep that night. He sits up, dragging Chanhee with him as he leans against the headboard of the bed. “Neither of us are going to die.”

“But how do you know that?”

“I just know.” Youngkyun states, keeping one hand around Chanhee while the other raises to brush his hair back. It’s still wet, sticking to his fingertips as he pulls away. “I won’t let anything happen to us. Neither will Sanghyuk.”

Back to Chanhee’s first concern, he falls to the beginning of the conversation again. “And what if he _can’t_ find us?”

Youngkyun shrugs. “He will.”

“But-”

“He’s going to find us, Chanhee. I know he will.”

Still holding heavy doubt that Sanghyuk will ever find them, Chanhee just slumps back against Youngkyun, lips drawn shut tightly.

_I don’t want to die…_

“We’ll be okay,” Youngkyun whispers, comforting hands sliding easily up and down the other’s back. “We’re going to leave the city. With Sanghyuk and the others. We’ll get out of here. We’ll go to the beach or something. Wherever Youngbin can get us somewhere to stay.”

Refusing to answer still, Chanhee nods, closing his eyes.

Youngkyun sighs, keeping his open. He wanted to be awake if Chanhee was to have a nightmare; wanted to be able to keep him safe through the night.

It was funny to him, how a human was so easily protecting a demon, but… That’s just how it was, he supposes. After a moment of thinking about it, he begins to shake his head. Not a demon, just Chanhee. Chanhee wasn’t anything but Chanhee to him; not a demon, not a half-ling. Just Chanhee.

He remembers their first meeting like it had happened only days before.

_“Come on,” Jaeyoon urges, shoving Youngkyun backwards into the closet, “just stay put, okay?”_

_“I don’t like the idea of this.” Youngkyun hisses, but obliges nonetheless, grabbing one of Jaeyoon’s coats before letting it fall over him. He covers everything but his eyes, pulling the sleeves over his head. His knees folded against his chest, and the coat heavy atop him, he watches through the cracks of the motel closet’s doors as Jaeyoon approaches the front door._

_The older hesitates, a shaking hand resting on the doorknob before throwing it open. “What are you here for?” He stands defensively in front of the entrance, not allowing any easy path to the closet. ‘If you want him, you have to go through me’._

_Youngkyun can barely see around Jaeyoon. He slides around the closet silently, crouching low to the floor in an attempt to peer past the other._ _He can only make out somebody’s shoes, and something red stained on them that Youngkyun prays isn’t blood. Though, knowing from the brief panic-filled speech Jaeyoon had given him before unceremoniously shoving him into the stuffy closet, he was dealing with other demons. So, it was blood. No doubt about it._

_Sinking back, Youngkyun continues to watch idly as he hides himself under Jaeyoon’s coat._

_“We need a place to stay.”_

_“And why are you coming to me for that?”_

_The bloodstained shoe scuffs on the wet pavement outside. It had been raining all night, and it was starting to get cold. The seasons were changing far too quickly to grasp. “I’m looking for_ _final members to join my legion.”_

_“You’re no leader.” Jaeyoon starts, fingers itching to slam the door shut as they race to the side of it. “Give me one reason why I should believe you.”_

_The boy scoffs. “Because you’re not already dead yet? There’s one of you, one human, and three of us.”_

_Youngkyun feels the other_ does _make a valid point, but still doesn’t like the idea of them staying in the motel room with them. It was so small, anyway… Where would they even sleep?_

_“_ _What’s your point?”_

_“Nothing, it’s fine. Sanghyuk, let’s go.”_

_Jaeyoon stands by the door, watching the three begin to leave before he turns quickly towards the closet, gritting his teeth, and calling out. “Wait!”_

_Youngkyun hopes that Jaeyoon knows what he’s doing when he allows the three inside, but begins to feel bad for even thinking of turning them away in the first place once they step inside._

_The obvious leader, with the bloodstained shoes, is carrying someone on his back. He’s small, dark hair framing his face as it hangs in wet tendrils. They’d walked; the third boy has dirt and mud covering his shoes and ankles, and he hesitates before coming inside, not wanting to get the floor dirty. He takes his sneakers off outside, leaving them beside the door before coming inside._

_Youngkyun still refuses to leave the closet, not liking the idea of the three knowing where he was-_

_“-is the other one in the closet?”_

_“Yeah.” Jaeyoon nods, walking over to it. Was his hiding place that obvious? He sinks back into the closet further, pulling Jaeyoon’s coat into his lap to pretend he hadn’t been hiding underneath it like a child under their covers, hiding from the monsters underneath their bed. Jaeyoon slides the doors open, still standing as a barrier between the strangers and Youngkyun. The younger can’t see them from the position Jaeyoon’s taken in front of the door. “Come on, ‘Kyun.”_

_Hesitantly, the brunette stands up, stepping out of the closet. His hand folds neatly into Jaeyoon’s, and when the other turns around to introduce him he slides behind him, not comfortable with being face to face with three faces that may one day kill him. His heart beats at an uncomfortably quick pace, leaving him almost breathless._

_Was this a panic attack? He hadn’t had one in so long, it was hard for him to remember what they felt like. He’s sure it is when he feels tears well up in his eyes and his breathing suddenly flip to erratic, hands shaking._

_Jaeyoon feels the other’s fingers trembling, and he rubs his thumb gently on his knuckle in circles. It’s comforting, but not enough to bring down Youngkyun, and he breaks their contact before walking straight into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door tightly behind himself._

_“I don’t think he likes us.” One of the strangers muses, before the sound of cloth hitting skin resounds throughout the room. “Hey!”_

_Youngkyun sinks back against the door, burying his face against his knees as he panic_ _s. It sets in over him, until he’s left shaking and crying silently in hopes the others won’t hear him._

_Later, after the motel is quiet, the hush of the night falling over it like a blanket, Youngkyun leaves the bathroom. He doesn’t expect to see Jaeyoon still wide awake, sitting on the floor next to one of the newcomers._

_The other two are asleep, pressed against each other tightly on the bed nearest to the door. Youngkyun assumes the brunette will join them, while he himself and Jaeyoon sleep in the second bed in the room together._

_Hesitantly, Youngkyun approaches them. The stranger looks up to him with wide eyes, bloodshot. It makes Youngkyun shiver. He must’ve not slept in days, he looks exhausted. But, each time his eyelids drift shut, an unseen horror forces them back open, and he’s left watching the room with terror behind his soft, brown eyes._

_Jaeyoon’s showing him something on his phone, and when Youngkyun sits down next to his friend, looking at the screen, he sees_ _a photo_ _of_ _himself and the other. “Hey, hey...” He grumbles, clearly displeased at the sudden attention he’d been receiving without even being in the room. “What’s this all about?”_

_“Chanhee doesn’t sleep.” Jaeyoon hums. “I was just going through my camera roll.”_

_“Hi.” Chanhee whispers, looking down at the floor. Youngkyun’s immediately intrigued._

_“Hey.” Youngkyun responds,_ _pouting. “You don’t sleep?”_

_“I wish I could.”_

_“Ah.”_

_While the two are immersed with each other, Jaeyoon slips away. It leaves an opening for Youngkyun to slide a bit closer, a bit more interested with the shy demon than he’d been before. He’d expected gnashing teeth and spitting tongues, and received a boy bundled up in an oversize black sweater with tired eyes._

_“Well,” he mumbles, “why don’t you?”_

_Chanhee shrugs. “I have bad dreams.”_

_Pitying him, Youngkyun reaches over and gently takes his hand. The younger flinches, and Youngkyun pulls away quickly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. “Well… What if I kept an eye on you?_ _If you start having a bad dream, I’ll wake you up.”_

_Chanhee’s eyes widen, and he looks up to Youngkyun. “You’d do that for me?”_

_The boy nods, smiling. “Yeah, I would. If we’re going to be friends, then we should have each other’s backs, you know?”_

_“Thank you,” Chanhee’s voice is barely above a whisper, and he reaches out to gratefully hold Youngkyun’s hand, breaking off the contact after a moment._ _Youngkyun nods, sliding up the side of the bed they lean against. Jaeyoon had taken the couch across the room, laying with his back facing the room as he scrolls through his phone._

_Youngkyun slips into the bed, followed after a moment by Chanhee. They keep a comfortable distance between them, but Youngkyun makes sure that he’s close enough to reach out and grab him, if the need to arises._

_It doesn’t take long for Chanhee to fall into a listless sleep. His breathing evens out in seconds, the first moment he’d allowed himself to drop his guard in what must have been, to Chanhee at least, countless nights._

_Youngkyun stays awake for the majority of that night, keeping his eye on the other’s condition. He doesn’t let himself sleep until the sun begins to rise outside, shining through the cheap motel curtains. Sunrise stains the room orange,_ _bleeding and staining the pale light that had resided inside the room once before._

_When Chanhee finally begins to stir, Youngkyun closes his eyes, following the other’s example of what a peaceful night’s sleep should look like._

  


Again, he finds himself watching Chanhee as he slept.

And he worries.


	9. Young God

Youngkyun had been half asleep when a banging on the hotel door had woken him up. At first, he’d expected it to be Sanghyuk, but when nobody called out for him he decided it couldn’t be him. Chanhee, still fast asleep next to him, isn’t phased in the slightest. He reaches out for Youngkyun when he gets up from the bed, though, his eyes still shut tight. Youngkyun pushes his pillow towards the younger, who takes it and pulls it into his arms, mumbling incoherently into the fabric as Youngkyun approaches the door.

His fingers skim over the doorknob, barely wrapping around it as he cranes his neck to see into the peephole.

“Jaeyoon?”

Youngkyun quickly throws open the door.

He hears Chanhee groan as he wakes up, but Youngkyun can’t take his eyes off of the brunette in front of himself. Dark bruises cover his throat and hands, and there’s blood caked underneath his fingernails. A hood covers most of his face, which Youngkyun assumes doesn’t look much better than the rest of his body. “What happened?”

“Where’s Sanghyuk?”

Chanhee comes up beside Youngkyun, reaching down to grab his hand. He peers up to Jaeyoon, worried eyes meeting uncertain ones. “He isn’t here yet...”

“What do you mean?” Jaeyoon suddenly looks up, making his way hastily into the room. “He’s still out there?”

Youngkyun shuts the door behind him, locking it swiftly before hurrying to Jaeyoon’s side. He helps him pull off the jacket, and seeing the state underneath has him rushing Chanhee to grab a rag from the bathroom. “What’s going on? Do you think he’s hurt?” After examining the wounds further, Youngkyun grimaces. “Fuck, what happened to you? Where’s Youngbin?”

Jaeyoon lets Youngkyun take care of him, sighing when the cold towel Chanhee had returned with is pressed against a gash on his neck. “I don’t know. I was with Youngbin one second, and the next…” He doesn’t finish. Chanhee moves to stand in front of him, hands trembling as he reaches out to grab Jaeyoon.

“What?” Chanhee whispers, the low light of the room illuminating his face in a hollowing blue light. He looks older, worn down. “And the next _what?_ ”

Jaeyoon shakes his head, biting his lip. Youngkyun focuses on moving from injury to injury, the rag having turned from a pristine, bleached white to a stained orange and red mess. Outside, a car honks in the parking lot. “He’s dead.”

“You’re lying.” Chanhee’s grip on Jaeyoon tightens. “Right?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.”

Slowly, Chanhee’s fingers trail from Jaeyoon’s arm. They rest on his hand before finally falling back to his side. “Then...” His expression is blank, void of any emotion detectable to Jaeyoon or Youngkyun. “Then the other legion is winning.”

“What?”

“We should go.” Chanhee starts for the door, being immediately stopped by Youngkyun. The brunette keeps a firm hand around his forearm, tearing him backwards.

“We aren’t going anywhere until Sanghyuk gets here.” Youngkyun pushes Chanhee back onto the bed, before moving Jaeyoon so he’s leaned against it as well. “Until then, we’re figuring out a plan.”

Jaeyoon scoffs, snatching the towel from the human. “Who put you in charge? I agree with you, but _I’m_ the oldest, and I-”

“Fine.” Youngkyun quips, ripping the towel back into his hands before he starts cleaning off a scrape on Jaeyoon’s cheek. “We’ve got it. You’re in charge.”

Chanhee huffs, grabbing his phone from where he had plugged it in to charge on the nightstand. “Then I’m calling Sanghyuk.”

“And if his phone’s not with him?” Jaeyoon turns to look over his shoulder at the youngest.

“Or if it’s being traced?” Youngkyun pipes up helpfully, moving from the cleaned scrape to Jaeyoon’s hands, working to drag the blood out from under his nails carefully. “You need to _think_ , Chanhee. Our safest bet is to stay put and let him find us.”

Dropping his phone on the comforter, Chanhee turns to stare at the other two. “And _how_ do you assume he’ll just be able to find us!? For all we know, Juho’s tracking Jaeyoon right now and he’ll be on us in minutes. How do we know we’re not cornered in this very moment?”

Shaking his head, Jaeyoon disproves his suspicions. “Juho’s distracted with something else right now.”

“What?”

“Sanghyuk killed Seokwoo.”

Youngkyun stills, looking up slowly as he continues to clean the other’s hands. “Sanghyuk wouldn’t just kill a human.”

“It’s what I heard from one of Juho’s angels.” Jaeyoon shrugs. “Guess he’s taking initiative without us. Either way, we’re out a leader and Juho’s probably set on taking out each of us for Seokwoo. If we weren’t waiting for Sanghyuk, I’d take you guys out of the city immediately.”

“So we need to meet up with Sanghyuk and leave.” Youngkyun, tries, earning a sharp, disagreeing huff from Jaeyoon.

“I want revenge for Youngbin.”

Chanhee perks up at this, fingers gripping the blankets tightly. He swings his legs underneath him, kneeling in front of the pillows as he reaches down for his phone. After reminding himself of the other’s worries, though, he drops it again. “But we need to let Sanghyuk come to us first.”

“We’re going in fucking circles...” Youngkyun groans, finally stepping back once the blood on Jaeyoon is, for the most part, wiped clean. “Okay, we need a plan.”

Jaeyoon nods, dragging himself back to sit on the edge of the bed. He reaches up, running his fingers along a set of bruises underneath his jawline as he speaks. “Chanhee wants Sanghyuk. I want revenge, and you want…” Jaeyoon cocks his head to the side. “You want to leave.”

“With everyone.” Youngkyun chimes in. Jaeyoon nods.

“We don’t know what Sanghyuk’s doing, or where he is. Youngbin’s plan had my death in it, we were both supposed to die back there.” He begins rambling, mumbling, before he finally comes back to the younger two with a solid plot forming with his words. “I take Chanhee’s phone, get far from here, and call Sanghyuk. If his phone’s tapped, then it’ll only track me, and you two will still be safe. But if it isn’t, I can meet up with Sanghyuk and bring him here. Regardless, he’ll answer, if he’s still able to. I’ll be able to talk to him for a minute.”

“He isn’t dead.” Chanhee starts, sitting forward abruptly. “Sanghyuk isn’t dead.”

“ _Hopefully_.” Jaeyoon tries, reaching back to grab Chanhee’s phone. “I don’t think he is either, but we need to think reasonably here. Juho won’t stop until he or Sanghyuk are dead, understand?” He stands up, stumbling on his feet for a moment before regaining his posture. “I’ll come back.”

“Don’t make promises,” Youngkyun hisses, reaching out to grab Jaeyoon’s hand, “and don’t get yourself killed.” Jaeyoon’s dimples sink in when he smiles, before he’s pulled roughly into Youngkyun’s arms. The younger stands on his toes as he rests his head on Jaeyoon’s shoulder. “Just… Please come back to me, okay?”

Reassuringly, Jaeyoon places his hands around the other, sighing quietly. “I’ll do my best, okay?”

“Promise me,” Youngkyun whines, closing his eyes tightly, “promise me you’ll come back.”

“You said not to make promises...”

“Well, I want you to now.” Youngkyun mumbles, pulling away slowly. His fingers fold against Jaeyoon’s neatly, Youngkyun not ready to let Jaeyoon go. “Please?”

The brunette scoffs, but brings his free hand forward to ruffle the other’s hair. “I promise. Okay? I’ll come back.”

  


* * *

Sanghyuk’s eyes flutter open to a dark, empty apartment.

It takes a minute for the memories to come rushing back to him, for him to remember why the kitchen table is overturned and smashed, and why there’s a knife stuck in his chest. He reaches up, curls his fingers around the hilt of the blade, and tears it out of his skin, groaning as it slides out. A string of black blood hangs between the tip of the knife and the wound before snapping, dropping down into Sanghyuk’s lap dejectedly.

“Fuck...” He breathes, bringing his fingers up to circle absently on his skin as he tries to think of what to do next. Was Taeyang still around, just waiting for him to get back up so he could kick him down again, playing with him to draw out a painfully prolonged death?

Sanghyuk holds the blade cautiously as he stands up, feeling his knees buckle the moment he grounds himself. He catches himself on the wall, dragging himself back up.

He reaches down, searching through his pocket for his phone before pulling it out. He shoots a quick text to Chanhee, a short **I’ll find you soon** , before he trudges towards his bedroom, stooping down next to his trashcan. He pulls out Inseong’s phone number, eyeing it warily before adding it into his contacts.

**I NEED TO SEE YOU. -Sanghyuk**

They had dated?

Maybe Taeyang was lying to him; it would make sense. He was throwing him off, shocking him just enough to get in a hopefully successful finishing blow.

He jumps when his phone rings, but looking down, seeing Chanhee’s contact name, he answers the call instantly.

“Chanhee, are you okay?”

“ _It’s Jaeyoon_.”

Sanghyuk gasps, hope lighting in his chest like a flame. “You’re okay!” Relief floods his tone, and he quickly stands, groggily hanging onto the wall once again as he adjusts to the new position. “I’m so glad… How’s Youngbin?”

A curt, soft intake of breath on the other line is all Sanghyuk needs to hear to confirm his worst suspicion.

“He’s dead.” He mumbles, staring blankly forward. “Isn’t he?”

“ _I’m sorry._ ”

Sanghyuk nods, feeling like his head is wrapped in gauze. He’s numb, unable to focus on anything but the breathing on the other line. His best friend was gone. “How did it happen?”

“ _Ah..._ ” Jaeyoon takes in a sharper breath, sighing slowly, “ _the guy who took me that first time, Juho, he…_ ” His breathing quickens, an uncomfortable hum resounds through the microphone. “ _He had some angel take his soul. Youngbin fought it until the last seconds, and Juho um…. He snapped his neck when he refused to shoot me.”_

“Was he in pain?”

“ _Yes._ ”

A sudden resolve fills Sanghyuk’s body. He’d fucking kill Juho, even if he died doing it. He wouldn’t stop until he’d felt the other’s pulse drop into nothingness. “Where are you now?”

“ _The bar. It’s the only place where there’s still people out; please be safe._ ”

“And the kids?”

“ _I don’t know if your phone’s bugged. I know where they are, but I’ m not taking you there until we destroy both of our phones._ ”

Sanghyuk hangs up, a calm wrapping around his body. He feels like he’s floating as he walks into his bedroom, looking around before getting on his knees, blindly searching for something underneath his bed. His cheek touches the floor, and his shoulder burns from the way he stretches it into the darkness before he pulls it back sharply, a small box locked tightly between his fingers.

When he opens it, he pulls out a dagger. It’s small, the hilt fits comfortably in Sanghyuk’s hand. He sits back on his knees, swiping the air in front of himself absently as he considers the weight and feeling of the weapon.

Youngbin had given it to him before joining their first legion. He’d promised it had the power to kill a demon in seconds, and Sanghyuk prays that it’s the truth. It had belonged to a family of hunters, who’d given it to their only exception as a parting gift when he visited them for the last time.

The wound in his chest has healed enough to stop the bleeding. It hurts still, but he barely feels it as he stands up, sliding the dagger into his sleeve. Adrenaline courses through him as he forms a plan.

He walks into the bathroom after leaving his room, flicking the light on to look at his reflection. He’s covered in blood. He grabs a towel and starts on the droplets that had spattered on his cheek, smearing them before finally wiping them clean away. He moves to the line that had fallen from his lips next, likely from the wound in his chest that for any human would surely be fatal. The black stains his skin, and when Sanghyuk scrubs at it long enough, only the ghost of a gray line clings to his skin.

He peels off his shirt when his face is finally cleared, sets the dagger on the counter, and begins examining the injury on his chest. Black and red blood rim it, dribbling down his chest. Black, for a wound that should have killed him. Red, for his determination to live.

He brings the rag to the gash, wiping the blood around it slowly before he bends down, grabbing a package of gauze and medical tape from underneath the sink. Youngbin had made sure to keep the cupboard stocked full of painkillers and bandages. But, there would be no babying of the legion from now on. No more bandages and soft words of support when someone got hurt. No more taking care of anyone.

This is the end.

Sanghyuk knows how Youngbin must have felt walking away for the final time. Not knowing if he was going to die, but still leaving to protect the others no matter what.

He turns around and opens the dryer, finding one of Youngbin’s hoodies waiting inside. He slides it on, picks up the dagger, and eases it back into his sleeve before he leaves the bathroom. His jeans were fine, they were barely bloody. And, where they did have blood on them, it was only droplets from the half-ling that had tried to kill him earlier that night. It wasn’t enough to be noticeable.

Sanghyuk leaves the apartment, feeling around his pocket for his phone. If he was destroying it anyway, then…

The other picks up on the first ring.

“ _Don’t you_ ever _fucking contact me again, you sick fuck.”_

“Good to hear your voice, too.” Sanghyuk can’t help but smile. “Look, I can’t remember you. Anything we used to be is a mystery to me, so… Help me out here? I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.”

“ _Good. I hope you fucking rot._ ”

“That’s hostile.”

Inseong laughs. It’s humorless, dry. “ _Yeah, well, I don’t take too kindly to people murdering my best friend._ ”

Sanghyuk stills. His finger hovers over the elevator buttons. “What?”

“ _Don’t call this number again, do you understand me?_ ”

“Inseong, you need to-”

“- _I don’t owe you_ shit _. In fact, you owe me for eating my fucking memories. So, how’s about this? Never talk to me again. Get away from here. Don’t ever even think of me again, and we’ll call it even._

Sanghyuk slams his finger down into the button, winces when the doors swing open in front of himself. “What are you talking about? You have _amnesia_.”

“ _You can’t be serious. Drop the act, you…_ ” Inseong sniffles, he chokes on his words. “ _Just leave me alone. You’ve ruined my life.”_

Sanghyuk has no idea what the other is saying, but he tries to follow up as best as he can. The attitude from the other is sudden, it’s a shock to him how much of a difference he is from the shy boy at the library.

“Inseong, _please_ ,” Sanghyuk steps into the elevator, “I really don’t remember you. I swear, I just… Look, Youngbin took my memories, or something, and he’s dead.”

“ _Youngbin’s_ … _Dead?_ ” Inseong sighs. “ _Sorry. I know he meant a lot to you, you were always so fond of each other...”_

Sanghyuk shakes his head, feeling the elevator jerk underneath him as it approaches the parking garage. Inseong _knew_ him. But what did Inseong mean when he’d said Sanghyuk had taken his memories? “Who did you lose?”

“ _Seokwoo_.”

The name draws something up in Sanghyuk. It’s familiar, but he can’t remember from where. A memory bubbles up, but it’s wiped clean moments before Sanghyuk can process it. “I’m sorry.”

“ _Yeah, well, you killed him. So...”_

“I didn’t fucking kill your friend!” Sanghyuk finally snaps, stepping angrily into the garage when the elevator opens back up. The situation does nothing but stress him out further. “I’ve been at Taeyang’s neck for the past two hours, it’s not like I could just-”

“- _You killed Taeyang too? You’re a fucking monster!_ ”

“No!” Sanghyuk defends himself, approaching his car quickly. “In fact, Taeyang nearly killed _me_. I don’t know where he went, he just showed up and tried to hurt my friends. I had to defend them, and he stabbed me and left me to die.”

“ _This doesn’t make any sense… Juho told me...”_ Inseong moves something on his end of the phone, Sanghyuk can hear the fabric ripple. “ _Juho told me you killed Seokwoo._ ”

“I didn’t,” Sanghyuk assures, getting into his car before locking the doors, “look, I just wanted to call you to say goodbye.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever remember you,” Sanghyuk hums simply, shoving his keys into the ignition before pulling out of the space he’s parked in, “because Youngbin may have died with my memories. I’m hoping he didn’t, but it’s not likely anyone else would have them now.”

“ _I..._ ” Inseong sucks in a sharp breath. “ _I want to see you_.”

“I can’t,” Sanghyuk mumbles, but the other’s words make his heart race quickly, “I’m sorry. I need to find my friends.”

“ _And after that?”_

“I don’t know,” Sanghyuk lies, knowing full well that he’ll be killing Juho before leaving the city for good, “I don’t know.”

* * *

  


Jaeyoon slips into the passenger seat of Sanghyuk’s car the moment he pulls up to the curb. He slumps into the seat, slamming the door behind himself. “It’s good to see you.”

“This is a fucking mess.” Sanghyuk growls, cracking his knuckles before he begins driving. “I want to finish this. _Now_.”

“We need to figure out a plan with Youngkyun and Chanhee,” Jaeyoon’s voice is quiet, as if he’s trying to ease a child from a tantrum, “we’re going to end it, okay?” He reaches over and places a hand on Sanghyuk’s shoulder, his gentle touch making the younger’s shoulders drop from the defensive position they’d taken. “We’re going to end it.”

Sanghyuk nods, ensnaring his bottom lip between his teeth as Jaeyoon begins to direct him back to the hotel Youngkyun and Chanhee were seeking refuge in. The drive is silent, and the city outside is still practically deserted. Traffic lights blink to red though there’s nothing waiting to pass, and Sanghyuk seems to catch each one as they pass underneath it.

“Are we close?”

“We’re close. Left at this next light.”

Sanghyuk nods, listening to the other’s instructions idly. His mind strays to Inseong, then to Youngbin. He can’t understand why or how Youngbin would take his memories, it didn’t make sense.

“Jaeyoon?”

“Hmm?”

“Did… Youngbin tell you anything about me?”

The question causes Jaeyoon to pique an eyebrow upwards curiously. “Like what?” He questions, leaning forward slightly.

“Anything,” Sanghyuk shrugs, before he sees a hotel ahead, “this one?”

Jaeyoon nods, and Sanghyuk pulls into the parking lot, making sure he parks somewhere where the vehicle wouldn’t be able to be seen from the road. Behind a cluster of hedges, Sanghyuk pulls the keys out of the ignition and waits for Jaeyoon to answer him. “Honestly,” the brunette begins, “no. He never really talked about you guys, save for saying how proud he was...”

The both of them sit in silence, Jaeyoon’s words washing over them in waves. Sanghyuk misses Youngbin more than anything else, but he’s also angry with him. He’d _left_ without any way for Sanghyuk to get his memories back. Unless… “He took some of my memories, Jaeyoon.”

“What?”

“Do you have them?”

Guilt flashes over Jaeyoon’s face. He averts his gaze from Sanghyuk’s eyes to the windshield of the car. He twiddles his thumbs in his lap. “No.”

Sanghyuk feels that Jaeyoon is lying to him. Jaeyoon seems keen on keeping silent, but it’s easily apparent he knows something. He’s _hiding_ something.

Jaeyoon leads Sanghyuk into the hotel, and an uncomfortable silence falls between them. Sanghyuk follows closely behind Jaeyoon, and reaches forward and grabs his sleeve. “We’re ending this tonight.”

“Well...” Jaeyoon summons the elevator, stepping into it. Sanghyuk mimics him, their shoulders pressed together as they stand in the corner of the room. “I don’t think we should just rush into this.”

Sanghyuk’s tired of plans. He’s tired of forming intricate plans that easily break and bend, and tired of losing the people he cares about. He wants to rush into the other legion and take them by surprise. Though, they were expecting him, weren’t they?

The elevator dings as it opens. Jaeyoon doesn’t answer, and doesn’t match his pace to Sanghyuk’s as he walks to the room at the end of the hall. He practically jogs, making sure there’s distance between himself and Sanghyuk.

Something had come over Sanghyuk. It hangs low and dark, shrouding him in a shadow that makes him look much older. His features look sharper, eyes hungrier. Jaeyoon feels unsafe being close to him, fearing that one misstep will lead to the other lashing out at him.

Jaeyoon sees why Youngbin had said Sanghyuk would make a good leader. He understands why he was skipped for the position, and why it had fallen immediately to Sanghyuk.

He himself was a coward, and Sanghyuk’s only concern is revenge and protecting those he has left, who were left to him when Youngbin was taken.

Youngkyun throws open the door before Jaeyoon can even knock, and he falls quickly into the older’s embrace, shaking. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“I told you I would.” Jaeyoon wraps an arm around Youngkyun, lifting him up slightly before trudging into the hotel room. Youngkyun hangs off of his shoulders like a doll, swaying in Jaeyoon’s arms aimlessly. “I’ve never broken a promise with you before, have I?”

Youngkyun shakes his head, and slowly, as he begins to calm down at seeing Jaeyoon safe, his shaking subsides. Sanghyuk immediately locates Chanhee, buried underneath a mound of blankets, and falls next to him.

It takes a moment for Chanhee to react, turning slowly from under the pile he’d hidden himself under. “Sanghyuk,” Chanhee whispers, eyes wide and filled with tears, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Sanghyuk lies, not wanting to bring up the hole in his chest or the dagger in his sleeve. Chanhee pushes himself against the older, burying his face in Sanghyuk’s shoulder. “Are you?”

“I’m okay...”

Sanghyuk nods, throwing a leg over Chanhee’s to anchor him against himself. The younger doesn’t say anything against it, just brings his hands up to squeeze the other’s shirt tightly, not wanting to be separated from him again.

Chanhee sniffles, and Sanghyuk just holds him closer, murmuring a soft, repeated “it’s okay” into his hair as he feels the other’s body rack with sobs he silences. He keeps his arms locked firmly around the younger, hands sliding up and down his back comfortingly. “I’m here, I’ll always be here...”

Youngkyun and Jaeyoon are too busy conspiring at the other side of the room to notice Chanhee and Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk uses it to his advantage, knowing that Chanhee wouldn’t open up if they were listening. “Don’t be scared, I’m right here.”

Underneath the pile of blankets, Chanhee’s response is barely above a whisper. Sanghyuk strains to hear it. “I don’t want to die.”

“I won’t let you.” Sanghyuk promises. “Nobody else is dying on my watch, understand?” He takes on a sharper tone, asserting to the other that death wasn’t an option. “Nobody’s dying while I’m in charge.”

“You don’t know what’s going to happen...”

“I know that I’m killing Juho.” Sanghyuk deadpans, pulling away so he can look Chanhee in the eyes. “And I know that you’re not dying.”

“Promise?”

“Of course,” Sanghyuk nods, “of course I promise.”

At once, the room silences itself. Jaeyoon’s head snaps towards the door, and Sanghyuk’s immediately pushed himself off of the bed, one arm raised defensively in front of his face while the other stretches towards the doorknob. Chanhee sits up, alerted just as the others are by the spark that had shocked the demons in the room in the same moment. Youngkyun hadn’t been affected, but at the other’s current stances, he ducks down and gets behind the bed, grabbing his bag on the way as he rifles around for anything he can use to defend himself if somebody came into the room.

Taking up the front line, Sanghyuk reaches out and latches his fingers silently against the doorknob, turning to look towards Jaeyoon. The brunette comes up behind him, standing a bit to the side to block any path to the rest of the room.

When the door swings open, nobody charges into the room. Nobody attacks, and nobody says anything. It’s silent as Sanghyuk analyzes the young boy in front of himself.

His hair is the color of rose champagne, and his eyes are almost glowing though the lights in the hotel hall are oddly dim. It’s almost as if every ray of light coalesces into him, into his eyes, which pierce through Sanghyuk calmly. He’s obviously younger than Chanhee, but he carries himself much differently. A stoic, mature air filters about himself, as if he’s a prince disinterested in the commoners before him.

“Sanghyuk.” He states flatly, craning his neck to the side. “Jaeyoon.”

“Who are you?”

He isn’t a demon, Sanghyuk can tell easily. There’s something very wrong about him, about the way his eyes shine. It’s when Sanghyuk sees the pale, dull white aura around his head.

An angel stares death in the face, and neither are willing to blink first.

“My name’s Jisung.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here to make an offer.” Jisung begins, suddenly cracking his neck back into position, a sickly _pop_ resounding through the empty hall. “If you give yourself to Juho, he’ll let your friends go.”

Jaeyoon laughs, suddenly cutting in for Sanghyuk. The younger is taken aback for a moment, watching his friend jump to the defensive. “Juho doesn’t have _any_ of us. And we would never let Sanghyuk go alone.”

“Well...” Jisung hums, looking to the ground before his gaze darts back upwards, his lips ticking upwards into a cocky smile. “I’ll be waiting until you change your mind.”

“Excuse me?” Jaeyoon shoves Sanghyuk to the side, stepping forwards as he defends Sanghyuk. “We won’t _be_ changing our minds.”

“This isn’t your decision. After all, wasn’t it Sanghyuk who was left in charge? ‘ _If we don’t come back by tonight, you need to take the kids and get out of here_ ’ sort of deal?”

Sanghyuk stills. “How did you know that?”

“I know lots of things.” Jisung giggles, bringing a hand upwards. Sanghyuk squeezes past Jaeyoon, and he brings his own up to press against Jisung’s. He doesn’t know why until his head burns and the taste of blood fills his mouth.

_“Can I have a name for your order?”_

_“Sanghyuk.”_

_The stranger nods, uninterested in the younger as he begins to tend to the next people in line. Sanghyuk, however, can’t take his eyes off of the brunette. There’s something about him that draws Sanghyuk in, trapping him. It forces him to stay rooted to the floor beside the counter, forces him to wait until the line is finished to begin speaking to the other again._

_“How long have you worked here?” He tries, earning an upraised eyebrow from the other. The tag on his apron reads_ Inseong _, and a crudely drawn smile adorns the last character._

_“A year.” Inseong replies, trying not to sound too dismissive though it’s clear he doesn’t want to be having the conversation anymore._

Sanghyuk yanks his hand backwards, gasps as he presses it to his head, and stares at Jisung.

Death blinks first.


	10. Colors

“You’ll come with me?”

Sanghyuk stares at Jisung. He’s unable to tear his eyes away from him. “What else do you have?” The taste of his lost memories have him on the verge of falling into Juho’s trap. He knows that underneath the angel’s facade is a monster capable of tearing him to pieces in moments. “What do you have?”

Jisung smiles. “I’ll show you all of it if you come with me.”

“I want you to show me now.” Sanghyuk whispers, not noticing the way the other’s eyes begin to glisten, an emerald daze glazing over them as he watches Sanghyuk. ‘Please.”

Jaeyoon grabs Sanghyuk’s arm, trying to pull him away from the door. The younger doesn’t budge, as if he’s glued to the carpet. He’s rooted in place as the other begins to draw him in. “Sanghyuk,” the older’s tone is warning, desperately trying to yank him back, “Sanghyuk, stop looking at him.”

“I want to know,” Sanghyuk’s tone doesn’t change, the urge to find what he was missing suddenly overpowering each one of his senses. His thoughts are muddled, ears filed with cotton. He can’t focus on anything but Jisung. “Please.”

“Then let’s go.” Jisung hums, looking overly proud of himself. “You and I will go to Juho, and we’ll get you your memories back.”

Sanghyuk begins reaching for Jisung’s hand, and the younger smiles as he raises his own. Chanhee suddenly rushes forward and slams the door closed between the two, and Sanghyuk finally falls back into Jaeyoon’s grasp, gasping for breath. His face is red, as if he hadn’t been breathing for the entirety of the conversation that had unfolded moments before. The other’s hold on him was killed the moment Chanhee had gotten in the way.

“He has my memories.” Sanghyuk whispers, reaching up to grab Jaeyoon, “he has my memories, Jaeyoon.”

“What are you even talking about?” Jaeyoon shakes his head, turning to look at Chanhee and Youngkyun, “do either of you know what’s going on?”

Youngkyun looks guilty, but he shakes his head. Chanhee’s eyes are wide as he agrees with Youngkyun, his fingers curling around Sanghyuk’s arm weakly. Sanghyuk looks to the three of them, frowning. “Youngbin took my memories.”

Youngkyun bites his lip. His gaze darts to Chanhee for a brief moment, just a flicker of a second before it returns to Sanghyuk. “Why?”

“I don’t know, but I want to.” Sanghyuk frowns. “Jisung has them. Or, at least a few. I don’t know.”

Jaeyoon slowly lets go of him, watching as Sanghyuk approaches the door again. “You open that, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’m not,” Sanghyuk mumbles, getting on his toes to look through the peephole. The hallway is deserted. “He isn’t there anymore.”

Slowly, the group backs itself into the room again, avoiding the door completely. Sanghyuk keeps his eyes on it, as if something will break it down in a matter of seconds. His paranoia is shared by everyone in the group, all staring and waiting for an unknown being to attack.

After a few moments the tenseness dies down. “We should stay here tonight. They know where we are, so leaving would be more dangerous than staying...” Sanghyuk’s tone is monotonous, dull. “We’ll keep watch. I’ll stay awake first.”

“No, let me.” Chanhee starts, but Sanghyuk shakes his head.

“I want you to sleep.” Sanghyuk’s tone takes on a sharper edge, and Chanhee lowers his gaze. “If I tell you to do something, _do it_.”

“Take it easy,” Jaeyoon reaches to Chanhee, grabbing his arm gently before pushing him behind himself. “We’re all freaked out, okay? He’s worried about you.”

Sanghyuk sighs. He brings a hand up, carding it through his hair. He ignores Jaeyoon. “Go to sleep, all of you.”

A scoff is all Jaeyoon can answer with. He walks away, grabs a pillow from the bed, and settles down on the floor. Youngkyun and Chanhee hesitantly take the bed, and Sanghyuk walks back to the door, sitting down with his back against it.

The room goes quiet, and Sanghyuk thinks back to the memory he’d been given from Jisung.

It was the first time he’d met Inseong.

He wants to know the rest, wants to see what else he’s missing. He’s tempted to leave and find Jisung, track him down until he’s able to recover every lost bit of himself Youngbin had taken.

Remembering Inseong wasn’t something he wanted, it’s something he needs.

Losing Youngbin took away all of what Sanghyuk had left. He needs Inseong, needs to find something or someone to live for before he plummets over the edge. Sure, he had Chanhee, Youngkyun and Jaeyoon, but he wouldn’t live for them. He had to, for Youngbin, but he’d rather curl up and die.

He feels for his dagger in his sleeve, leaning back against the wall when his finger strokes the blade of it.

Time seems warped. Minutes pass like hours do, yet the seconds seem to meld together in a disgusting sort of enjambment as Sanghyuk’s mind races, thoughts jumping to each possible outcome of the next few days. He could die, or he could live. He doesn’t know, and part of him doesn’t care. He wants this to be over with, he’s tired of fighting.

For Youngbin, though, Sanghyuk would fight. He knew for certain he’d avenge his friend, his brother, because he would never forgive himself if he didn’t.

When Jaeyoon finally begins to wake up hours later, his phone buzzing softly underneath his pillow, Sanghyuk stands up and stretches. A whisper crosses the room and Jaeyoon squints, trying to see through the dark as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “We aren’t waking them up.” Sanghyuk nods in agreement, walking over to the makeshift bed on the floor. Jaeyoon cranes his neck to the side, cracking it before he stands up to take his position.

“Get some sleep.” Jaeyoon murmurs, reaching down to card his fingers through the younger’s hair. He crosses the room, peering through the hole in their door before he sits down against it, folding his hands together in his lap as he plays with his fingers idly. His gaze flits over the room, stopping occasionally on Youngkyun.

Sanghyuk barely sleeps, just fades in and out of consciousness, his anxiety forcing him back to reality each time he seems to drift off. Each time he turns to look at the door, Jaeyoon’s in a different position that signifies some great amount of time had passed.

Jaeyoon doesn’t look tired. He looks numb, though, empty as he analyzes each aspect of the room for what must be his hundredth time doing so. Sanghyuk’s puzzled as to why _he’d_ been appointed leader when Jaeyoon would be a much better candidate for it. Though, Jaeyoon and Youngbin had expected to die together, so Sanghyuk figures he was just the oldest left, the one who would be easiest to take charge.

“Jaeyoon?” Sanghyuk whispers, causing the other to jump.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” The other’s tone is scolding, and he stands up to walk over to Sanghyuk, crouching down beside him. “Come on, we have a big day tomorrow.”

When Jaeyoon brings a hand down to stroke the other’s hair again, Sanghyuk rubs his head against it, frowning. “I can’t sleep.”

“Well, try.”

“I did.”

Jaeyoon scoffs, shaking his head. “Sure.”

“I did!” Sanghyuk grumbles, closing his eyes. “I tried. Do you want to switch?”

Jaeyoon shakes his head, “it’s almost morning… I’d say we should just wake the others up and get something to eat.”

The news comes as a shock to Sanghyuk. He rubs his eyes, reaching for his phone that he realizes too late isn’t available anymore. “What do you mean? It can’t be...”

Raising an eyebrow, Jaeyoon pulls his hand away from the other. Sanghyuk reaches for it, pouting as he chases the other’s palm with his fingers. “Why do you think I’m so upset you didn’t sleep?”

Sitting up, Sanghyuk yawns. “Well, what time did we switch?”

“Like, three.” Jaeyoon hums, standing up. “Hey, Kyun, Chanhee, get up.” His voice is louder, assertive, even. Youngkyun barely moves or makes an attempt to wake up, but Chanhee jumps up, clearly startled. “Youngkyun.”

The brunette grumbles something into his pillow, looping an arm around Chanhee before dragging him back against himself. Sanghyuk snickers, earning a sharp glower from Jaeyoon. The human had been around Jaeyoon for far too long to be phased by his attempts to sound powerful.

“Youngkyun, get up.”

“Fuck off...” The brunette whines, and Chanhee widens his eyes, turning to look at Jaeyoon.

“Alright, well, come on Sanghyuk.” He reaches down and snatches the demon’s arm, dragging him upwards. “We’ll be back later.”

The notion of him leaving sends Youngkyun into a frenzy, and he sits up abruptly, dropping Chanhee. “Where are you going?”

“The hotel has free breakfast.” Jaeyoon shrugs, linking his arm around Sanghyuk’s. “We’ll be around.”

The two leave, and Chanhee sits up next to Youngkyun, running his hands through his hair. Youngkyun sighs, falling back onto the pillows as he stares up at the ceiling. Chanhee lays down next to him, owning the space between his arm and chest easily. “You aren’t hungry?”

“Nah.” Youngkyun closes his eyes. “Are you?”

“A bit.”

The way he says it leaves Youngkyun’s heart racing. “Then you should go with them.” He tries to get the other to say the truth behind his words instead of the lie hiding it. “I’m sure they’re still on this floor.”

“’m not…” Chanhee’s voice trails off. “No, it’s fine.”

“You want blood?” Youngkyun deadpans, hating the way he sounds so critical. He winces, closing his eyes. Chanhee stiffens next to him, not answering. “I mean… It’ll help, won’t it?”

Chanhee pulls away, and Youngkyun hates the way his arm falls onto the ghost of warmth Chanhee had abandoned on the sheets. “We aren’t doing that.”

“Why not?” Youngkyun raises an eyebrow. “We know how far is too far, as long as you’re careful...”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Youngkyun sits up, reaching over to grab Chanhee’s hand. “I’ll tell you when to stop, okay?”

The other shakes his head, paranoia clawing its way up his body. Coursing through his veins, his blood is laced with fear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You _won’t_ ,” Youngkyun repeats, stressing the word. “Let’s just give it a try, okay?”

Hesitantly, Chanhee nods. Youngkyun draws his arms around him, pulling him closer. He leans back against the headboard of the bed, letting the other follow him. “When…?” Chanhee whispers, voice trembling. Youngkyun suddenly feels his breath on his neck, and he tries to keep his pulse slow, tries to keep himself calm.

This could kill him. The demon they’re playing with is dangerous, murderous when unleashed. “Whenever you’re ready.” He breathes, and almost immediately after he says it he feels the other’s lips brush against his skin.

“Are you sure?”

He isn’t sure. Youngkyun knows he could die, that if Chanhee lost control he’d be without any help. Sanghyuk wouldn’t be around to save him again. “Yes, I’m sure.”

There’s a moment of silence that follows, and Youngkyun’s sure the other’s not going to do it before he feels a sharp sting on the side of his neck, and his fingers curl tightly against the sheets. Chanhee pulls away. Youngkyun opens his eyes, his breath catching in his throat when he sees the drop of blood on the other’s lips. “Why did you stop?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Not badly.” Youngkyun murmurs, bringing a hand up to the other’s cheek. Gently, he moves it to the back of the other’s head, urging him back down slowly. “Come on, you’re fine.”

The brunette closes his eyes again when Chanhee’s teeth graze his skin, and Youngkyun keeps his hand poised on the back of his head when he finally bites down again. “It’s okay...” He whispers, feeling the other move less rigidly beside him. He brushes his fingers through Chanhee’s hair, encouraging him silently.

His heart hammers in his chest, but Youngkyun tries not to let it bother him. “You’re good,” he whispers, feeling the way the other’s holding back. “It’s okay.”

Chanhee pulls away, taking a breath before he latches his lips against the other’s skin again. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, muffled by Youngkyun’s skin.

“Don’t be sorry,” Youngkyun hums, shifting with discomfort, “let me help you.”

Chanhee nods, and silence falls between them again.

  


* * *

  


“I’m worried that we left them alone.” Sanghyuk begins, crossing his arms as he sets an empty cup down on the table. Jaeyoon takes a sip from his own glass, shaking his head.

“They’re fine. Probably still sleeping.” He hums dismissively, but sets his things down regardless. They didn’t eat much, but they’d grabbed things for Youngkyun and Chanhee, hoping they would want what they didn’t. “Right?”

“We should go check.” Sanghyuk mumbles, standing up. He grabs the bowls, hating the way his nails scratch against the paper texture of them. The room is alive with people, everyone coming to take advantage of what the hotel was giving away. It’s a quiet sort of liveliness, hushed voices speaking all around in small groups sitting around the dining room.

A girl catches Sanghyuk’s eye, just as he had hers. She bites her lip, watching him walk past her table, and he quickens his pace. Jaeyoon runs to catch up with him.

The sight of her had Sanghyuk’s heart racing. Jaeyoon had noticed, and when the two leave the room and Sanghyuk’s pace slows, Jaeyoon leans closer to him. “When was the last time you..?”

“The night that I took Chanhee to the library.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jaeyoon hisses. “You’re probably super weak, then.”

Embarrassment colors Sanghyuk’s face. “Maybe a bit...”

Jaeyoon leads the younger down the hall, stopping in front of the elevator before he thumbs the button. A window behind them lets a dazzling morning light filter through the hotel’s blinds, filling the hallway with a gleam that seems oddly fake. “How are we supposed to take out Juho if you can barely fight?”

Instinctively, Sanghyuk’s hand crawls up to his sleeve as he checks on the status of his dagger. “I have weapons...”

“Sometimes weapons don’t cut it.” Jaeyoon’s the first to step into the elevator when it opens, Sanghyuk following closely behind him. The dark haired demon presses himself against the wall as he looks to the older. “What if you need to use that crazy mind shit?”

“Why don’t you just seduce him into offing himself?” Sanghyuk jumps in defensively, leaving him teetering on the edge of Jaeyoon’s patience. He sees a fire ignite in the other’s eyes.

“Shut up, slut.”

“Yes sir.” Sanghyuk nods, dropping his gaze quickly.

The elevator doors open, and the two silently walk back to the hotel room. Jaeyoon fumbles with the key, sliding it in and out of the door three times before the door finally swings open. “God.” He grumbles, stepping inside. He holds the door open for Sanghyuk, who walks in quickly to check on the others.

Youngkyun’s leaning back against the headboard, blankets pulled up around him. Chanhee’s sitting up next to him, eyes wide. Both share a cherry tint in their cheeks, and Sanghyuk wills himself to not worry that they had been interrupted with something.

He sets the bowls down on the bed. “We got you muffins…” He murmurs, motioning to the pastries in the dishes, “and there’s blueberries there too. We didn’t know what you’d want.”

“Thanks, ‘Hyuk.” Chanhee takes the bowls, handing one to Youngkyun before falling back against his side. “When do we leave?”

Sanghyuk bites his lip, chewing on it gently before letting it go. “Soon. It’s about six now, so eight?”

“We should go sooner.” Youngkyun chimes in, yawning. He’d slept for most of the night, but exhaustion still hangs over him like a dark cloud. Chanhee, however, seems more alive than normal. “Seven. We need to get this over with.”

Jaeyoon nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Are we all good with that, then?” Sanghyuk glances around the room. Everyone seems on edge, nervous for the fight in front of them. There’s a silent excitement though, buzzing like static underneath their fear. For Sanghyuk, the excitement lies with vengeance. He’s sure that’s what’s motivating the others, as well. “Seven?”

At the murmur of agreement, Sanghyuk leaves the room, walking into the bathroom before locking the door behind himself. He turns on the water, staring at his reflection as he splashes it up into his face.

Youngbin’s sweatshirt still hangs over him, and he buries himself into it after washing off his face, the hair hanging in front of his face dripping ice down his skin.

He decides he wants to live, staring into his own dead eyes reflected back at him. He wants to watch Chanhee grow up, wants to help Youngkyun find a college. Jaeyoon and him had a duty to take care of the others, to build up a new legion outside of the city. And, well, he had Inseong.

Not yet, but he would. After he kills Juho, he plans to find his memories. And after that, he’d convince Inseong to give him another chance, to forgive him for whatever happened between them. His anxiety had drained into a dull ache that flits over his heart, keeping him on the edge of motivation and desperation. He doesn’t know which he feels more, but he’s sure he’ll figure it out soon enough.

Frankly, he has to. Youngbin had left him in charge, he needed to find his voice. He grabs the counter, leaning closer to the mirror to stare at his reflection.

He decides it’s motivation to keep his family safe, and leaves the bathroom. Chanhee smiles at him, sitting on the edge of the bed as he kicks his legs out in front of himself. Youngkyun lays down behind him, idly biting into the muffin he’d been given. “I want to fight Jisung.”

“I’m not having you take on an angel, he’d reap your soul.”

“I’m tough,” Chanhee defends quickly, raising a finger in an attempt to strengthen his point, “I’m really tough.”

Sanghyuk laughs. “Sure, Chanhee, you’re tough.”

“I am!”

An unsettling calm drifts lazily over the group, finding its home among them for however long it pleases. Sanghyuk doesn’t want to change it or remove it, just sinks into it as the others do.

  


* * *

  


“So...” Sanghyuk scuffs his shoe against the ground. “Do we ring the bell?”

Jaeyoon cocks his head to the side, reaching forward to lock his fingers around the doorknob. The group stands in front of an apartment complex, a two story home that had been converted into a cluster of small, cheaper homes in a darker side of the city. “They own this whole thing. I have no idea which one Juho’s in.”

“Well, which one were you and Youngbin in?” Sanghyuk turns towards the other quickly, frowning. Jaeyoon points to the door he’s ready to open. “So, let’s get it.”

Chanhee smirks, crossing his arms when Jaeyoon throws the door open. Sanghyuk looks into the dark apartment, sliding his dagger into his hand as Jaeyoon crosses into the room first. Something crashes, somebody shouts, and he’s racing in behind the other.

Jaeyoon had thrown a chair on the ground, and he stands over the piece of nearly broken furniture powerfully. “Come on out, bastard!”

“So loud...”

Sanghyuk’s head snaps to the side, and he twirls his dagger in his hand dangerously as the half-ling eyes him up from where he leans against the wall, defending a staircase that leads into an inky blackness upstairs. The only light that seems to be filtering into the room comes from the doorway.

Sanghyuk doesn’t say a word, stilling his movements as he watches the other. Juho smirks, sizing him up. “You look weak.”

Jaeyoon stands attentively behind Sanghyuk and in front of Chanhee, who’s backed Youngkyun into a corner protectively. Juho peers around the three, eyeing the brunette with a sort of bored expression on his face. “You brought a human into the heart of a legion..? Not smart.”

“Where’s Jisung?” Sanghyuk blurts, taking a step forward finally. Juho looks surprised, but recovers quickly, staying poised against the wall as the other approaches him.

“Why do you care?”

“I want my memories before we end this.” He begins, and Juho just shrugs. “What?”

There’s a glint of humor in the half-ling’s eyes. “Are you sure you want that? Right now?” There’s a glimmer of red underneath the dark hues of his eyes, matching the emotion he’s displaying beautifully. When he smiles, the first thing Sanghyuk can think of is that the other has an odd sort of attractiveness about him. Remembering who he is, though, and what he’d done, immediately kills the feeling.

When Sanghyuk doesn’t answer, Juho hums, standing up. “I want to hear you beg.”

“I’m sorry?” Sanghyuk straightens his posture, trying to rival the other’s height. “I’m not begging for shit.”

“Then looks like you’re out of luck on finding your memories,” Juho shrugs, raising a hand. He flicks his wrist to the side, and Sanghyuk hears Jaeyoon shout. When he turns around, daring a sharp glance over his shoulder, he sees the older had been thrown to the ground, his back pressed sharply against the wreckage of what Sanghyuk can barely see had been a table. “And now we’re ending this.”

Chanhee takes a step back, reaching for Youngkyun’s hand. The door is still wide open beside them, and Sanghyuk is pleading that something will tell them to leave. It was a horrible idea to bring them along, and Sanghyuk regrets it with each passing second.

Juho grabs Sanghyuk while he’s distracted, slamming him into the wall. “Not so tough without your leader, huh?”

“They have a leader...” Sanghyuk whispers, gagging when Juho’s hand slides up to wrap around his throat. Laughing, Juho tightens his grip, feeling Sanghyuk grapple for control, hands shooting up to claw at Juho’s when he finds he’s unable to breathe.

“Who? You? Then they’re about to lose two leaders.”

Sanghyuk sees black, and in the moments he’s blinded by his breathlessness, Juho’s hand breaks away from his throat. He swallows each bit of air he can take in, choking and sputtering on each breath he manages to take. His vision recovers slowly, and when it does he sees Chanhee wrapping himself around Juho’s back, fingers clawing at his face as he fights back for Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk, still recovering his breath, is barely able to help when Chanhee’s thrown back, falling off of the other and next to Jaeyoon on the ground. The eldest of the group is still struggling to stand, as if each time he’s close to steeling himself some invisible force weighs him back down, holding him pinned against the floor.

Juho turns his attention to Youngkyun, taking an agonizingly slow step forward, followed by another, until he’s about an arms length away from the brunette in front of himself.

“So, Chanhee still doesn’t know...” Juho begins, reaching out to run his finger down the side of Youngkyun’s face. The younger is stunned, paralyzed in position against the wall. His fingertip leaves a trail of ice down the other’s cheek.

Chanhee struggles to his feet, smirking when he sees the angry red lines crossing Juho’s face. His fingernails have blood speckled underneath them, and he slowly steps towards Sanghyuk, reaching past him to flick on the lights to the apartment. When he does, he moves quickly to shut the front door, making his way to Youngkyun after he’s locked the group in the room together.

Juho suddenly grabs Youngkyun, pulling him against his chest before he turns towards Chanhee. “Take a step back.” Immediately, Chanhee obliges, raising his hands up. Sanghyuk finally manages to stand up, watching the two cautiously. “Give me your hand.”

“No.”

Juho raises an eyebrow, one of his hands gliding up to Youngkyun’s head before he yanks him upwards by his hair, stretching his neck as much as he can, exposing the bruises and bites Chanhee had left earlier in the day. Juho leans down, keeping Youngkyun’s head tilted upwards as he brings his mouth closer to one of the sets of bites on Youngkyun’s neck.

“No!” The threat of Juho turning the other is too great for Chanhee to ignore. Chanhee’s hand shoots out, his fingers breaking the gap between Juho and Youngkyun’s neck. “Don’t!”

“Chanhee-!” Sanghyuk rushes forward, but he’s too late. Juho grabs his hand, smiling sadistically as the memories Youngbin had kept locked up go rushing back to their rightful owner. It only takes seconds for Chanhee to draw back, screaming as he presses his palms to the sides of his head. When he collapses, Sanghyuk catches him, cradling him against his chest as he stares up at Juho. “What did you do to him!?”

Uninterested with Youngkyun, Juho lets go of him, letting him run to aid Chanhee. “What you should have done a _long_ time ago. How could you let a weapon as powerful as him lay dormant for so long?”

Chanhee whines, another scream tearing through his throat as he thrashes in Sanghyuk’s arms. Tears stream down his cheeks, and Sanghyuk can almost feel the pain seeping out of his skin. Youngkyun stares up at Sanghyuk, eyes wide with worry. “Youngbin… He took Chanhee’s memories, too.”

“Of what?” Sanghyuk’s anxiety returns the instant Youngkyun says it, feeling his grip on Chanhee loosen.

“Being turned.”

Sanghyuk feels like his world is collapsing around him. The memories had already been forced back into him, there was no way he could take them out safely. The other is poisoned, and each passing second leads closer to when the venom will reach his core and fully take over him. “You need to get out of here.” Sanghyuk whispers, shaking his head. “He’ll kill you, Youngkyun.”

“He’ll kill all of you,” Juho muses, crossing his arms. “Just give him a second.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Sanghyuk breathes, feeling Chanhee go limp in his arms. “Fuck...”

The moment Chanhee’s eyes begin to open again, Juho grabs Youngkyun and drags him backwards by his collar. Youngkyun shouts in alarm, and Sanghyuk watches as he’s raised up to his feet. Youngkyun struggles in Juho’s grip, but stills when the other brings a hand to his throat, resuming the position they’d been in before Chanhee had given in.

Sanghyuk lets go of Chanhee, shoving him roughly to the side to run to Youngkyun.

Chanhee was dead, and something psychotic had possessed his body. Sanghyuk _had_ to protect Youngkyun, had to get him and Jaeyoon out of the building safely. They were fools for coming in so rushed, for not planning just a bit more. They should have waited; Sanghyuk blames himself for losing Chanhee to whatever Juho had

Juho bites down into Youngkyun’s skin when Sanghyuk’s fingers brush against him, and the moment he’s thrown backwards he shoves Youngkyun forwards, the human stumbling and falling directly in front of Chanhee. Jaeyoon screams from where he’s been locked against the floor, and Sanghyuk slams Juho into the ground, turning to watch Jaeyoon rush towards Youngkyun.

Juho doesn’t fight back, just watches the mess that he’d created unfold with a charmed gaze. Sanghyuk turns from where he’s straddling Juho to see what’s happening, and immediately wishes he hadn’t.

Chanhee’s hooded eyes stare at the blood that trickles down Youngkyun’s neck, each bead adding a burning intensity to the younger’s interest. Jaeyoon kneels protectively in front of the brunette, an arm outstretched defensively, attempting to push the human behind himself as best as he can.

There’s a moment where sanity dribbles back into Chanhee’s body, and he throws himself back against the wall, shaking his head as he raises his hands, fingers grabbing and yanking at his hair as if he’s trying to wake himself up. He screams, and Sanghyuk can’t bring himself to watch anymore of it.

For just a moment, Chanhee’s the kid Sanghyuk remembers raising. He remembers all of the nights he’d spent consoling him, bringing him down from his panic attacks and holding him until he could fall asleep again. It’s only for a flicker of a moment, though, before Chanhee’s hands drop and his scream dies in his throat. He pants, raising his head slowly to look back at Jaeyoon.

“Run.” Jaeyoon shoves Youngkyun backwards, and the brunette scrambles back towards the hall at the other end of the room, panicked as he ascends the stairs. Jaeyoon chases after him, Chanhee hot on his heels. Sanghyuk wants to run after them, but the moment he can’t see them anymore, Juho’s grappling for control.

Sanghyuk turns his attention back to the man underneath him, grabbing his collar before raising and slamming him against the ground again. “You could have avoided this!” He shouts suddenly, and Juho’s eyes widen. His movements fumble, but he regains his composure quickly, clawing at Sanghyuk’s hands in an attempt to remove them. “You didn’t have to kill Youngbin!”

“Then why did you kill Seokwoo!?” Juho screams back, his hands stilling over Sanghyuk’s. “Why did you kill him!?”

“What?”

“You started without us?”

Sanghyuk looks towards the new voice, feeling bile rise in his throat at the sight of Taeyang watching him. Behind him, Inseong peers worriedly around his shoulder, eyes wide with fear. “You said you’d wait...”

“They came to me, what was I supposed to do?” Juho doesn’t seem phased in the slightest, not worried that Sanghyuk has him pinned. All the ebony haired demon can do is stare at Inseong, lips parted around unspoken words. The human seems to understand though there’s nothing said between them, wincing when Juho’s hand flies up to land against the other’s forehead. “I guess we can get started though, right?”

  


_“Can I have a name for your order?”_

_“Sanghyuk.”_

_The stranger nods, uninterested in the younger as he begins to tend to the next people in line. Sanghyuk, however, can’t take his eyes off of the brunette. There’s something about him that draws Sanghyuk in, trapping him. It forces him to stay rooted to the floor beside the counter, forces him to wait until the line is finished to begin speaking to the other again._

_“How long have you worked here?” He tries, earning an upraised eyebrow from the other. The tag on his apron reads_ Inseong _, and a crudely drawn smile adorns the last character._

_“A year.” Inseong replies, trying not to sound too dismissive though it’s clear he doesn’t want to be having the conversation anymore._

_“A year! You must be their best employee, then.” Sanghyuk hums, acting uninterested though he feels his heart hammering in his chest. The brunette scoffs.”What? It’s true.”_

_Inseong rolls his eyes, turning to work on the drink that had been ordered. Sanghyuk couldn’t see another worker behind the counter with him, but that was to be expected. It was reaching ten, nobody usually walked around or thought of going to the local cafe so late at night. “Are you working alone tonight?_ _That must suck…”_

_Finally, the brunette turns back towards Sanghyuk, pulling his lips together tightly. “That doesn’t concern you.”_


	11. i made you weak

Sanghyuk drums his fingers idly against his thighs, sitting in the booth across from Youngbin. The seats are old, the red coloring bleached from the sunlight that must filter in through the cafe windows during the day. They didn’t need to worry about that, though; the clock on the wall crawls towards ten, the fingers ticking closer and closer to the twelve and ten.

“Do you want to order anything?” Youngbin hums, dragging his credit card out of his pocket. “I’ll pay.” He smiles, watching Sanghyuk’s gaze dart to the chalkboard on the wall above the service counter.

Sanghyuk reads over it for a second, not interested in anything until his eyes draw down and he sees the barista cleaning off one of the coffee grinders next to the espresso machine. He eyes the curve of the other’s uniform, the way it hangs over his tan skin. Sanghyuk stands up, grabbing the card from Youngbin without answering his question.

Curiously, Youngbin turns to watch Sanghyuk approach the counter, smiling faintly when he sees why the other seemed so dazed. He turns back towards the table, minding his own business as he waits for Sanghyuk to return.

Sanghyuk’s excitement was short lived. He returns to the table a few minutes later, head hung low as he holds a paper cup with whatever drink he’d ordered contained inside.

“No luck?” Youngbin smiles, folding his hands neatly in his lap as he watches the other sit down. Sanghyuk shakes his head, takes a slow sip of his drink, and promptly sets his forehead on the table after he pulls his lips off of the paper. “That’s alright, he isn’t that cute anyway...”

“Did you really look at him?” Sanghyuk grumbles, folding his arms around his head. Youngbin turns towards the counter and watches the barista, turning back to his friend a moment later.

“I was wrong.”

The two don’t spend much longer at the cafe. They leave when the clock finally inches past ten, about an hour before the shop is supposed to close. Youngbin hates the way that Sanghyuk drags his feet on their way back home, how his eyes don’t stray from where they’re locked against the pavement.

Sanghyuk returns to the cafe the next day, followed by the next, until he’s a regular and each barista seems to know him by name. Inseong only grows impatient with him, ducking into the kitchen whenever Sanghyuk arrives at the store in an attempt to avoid him.

“You know,” Seokwoo hums one day during their morning rush, his skin glistening with sweat from the summer heat, “you should give him a chance.” He brushes his hair back with a hand, his face illuminated by the orange glow of the stove he currently works above. “Sanghyuk’s a nice guy, I’m friends with his older brother.”

“Brother?”

“Well, close friend.” Seokwoo reaches forward and hooks his fingers around the pan on the burning stove, flipping what’s inside of it with ease. Inseong leans forward, peering over his shoulder to look in the pan. “But seriously, he’s cool.”

Inseong puffs his cheeks up, leaning on his friend as he watches him work. The two are silent for a moment, only the sizzling of the vegetables in the pan audible in the kitchen. Seokwoo leans back against his friend, sighing as he flips the pan once more before letting go of it. “My shift ends soon.”

“Lucky.”

The two leave it at that, and Inseong leaves the kitchen to help the others in the front with the slowly dwindling line. He makes countless drinks, assuming it had been around twenty or thirty when the flood of people dies down into a slow trickle. His fingers hurt, burned from where he’d spilled an unfinished espresso drink while attempting to pour it from the machine.

Hour after hour passes, and Inseong can’t help but wonder about Sanghyuk. He was attractive, but not somebody Inseong would willingly involve himself with. Something about him screams danger, and Inseong wants nothing to do with it. Though, it was exciting to think about.

Inseong reaches down to grab a rag from underneath the counter, beginning to swipe at, and dust, the light fixtures hanging above him. They swing when he touches them, dangling precariously from the ceiling, suspended on silver chains. There was nothing much left to do until the shop closed, and Inseong was starting to feel exhausted.

When the door swings open, a part of him hopes to see Sanghyuk standing in the doorway, wearing his usual bashful grin as he would once again attempt to strike up a flirtatious conversation with the lead barista. However, when Inseong sees it isn’t him, he just shoots the customer a smile as he begins to drift around the cafe, inspecting it like a ghost.

He doesn’t give them a second thought, continuing to clean the lights. Inseong only begins to feel odd when the man stops and stares at him, standing near the door with an inquisitive look in his eye.

“Can I help you with something?” He tries to sound cheerful, as bright as the lights glimmering above him. Though, he only feels his mood dim when the other continues staring, refusing to answer his question.

Something sparks in the air between them, and before Inseong knows it the customer is smiling at him, flashing perfectly white, straight teeth encased in his sinister grin. “You’re all alone here?” There’s something in his voice that sends shivers up Inseong’s back. He’s implying something much, much darker than what he’s revealing on the surface.

“I...” Inseong nervously pushes his glasses up with a finger, his other hand shooting down to grab a pen that had been tucked underneath the corner of a stack of papers. He twirls it nervously, fingers scratching against the sharp side of it as he watches the customer. He doesn’t know what to respond with, shrugging softly. “No, the manager’s on a smoke break.” He lies, tapping the pen against the counter idly.

“I didn’t see anybody outside.”

“He went out the back.”

“I looked back there.”

Inseong’s shocked that he’s so blunt about how he’d scoped out the building, and he tries not to seem alarmed when the man begins approaching the counter. The stranger reaches into his pocket, and for a brief moment Inseong sees something metallic flash in his palm.

Dread floods his system when he realizes that there was nothing peaceful about the stranger that had walked into the cafe. There’s something unwell about the other, about the way he sways and how upon closer inspection his eyes are bloodshot, dark bags laying underneath them.

There’s a moment when Inseong sees how close he is to being in serious trouble, until his savior comes bounding into the cafe with a goofy smile and soaking wet hair. Inseong hadn’t noticed the rain until the door bounced behind Sanghyuk, swinging shut violently with the wind a moment later.

“Hey!” Inseong slips out from behind the counter, rushing to the other before enveloping him in his arms. Sanghyuk freezes, arms raised halfway to Inseong as his gaze darts to the person standing, staring, in front of the counter. “What took you so long to get here?”

“I...” Sanghyuk feels something change in the room. He’s lightheaded when static fills his ears, only able to stare at the other demon when he feels the spark drift and crackle between them like fireworks. “I got caught up in traffic.” His fingers drift upwards, wrapping around Inseong’s hand as he stares at the demon.

Inseong only notices the way the stranger stiffens, and how he almost runs to leave the cafe after Sanghyuk shows up. When he sees them disappear into the darkness outside, he lets go of Sanghyuk and sighs, trembling slightly from the fear he’d felt moments before. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Don’t be,” Sanghyuk shakes his head, looking worriedly to Inseong, “are you okay?”

“I’m okay...”

Inseong feels dizzy, brushes it off as his nerves. He stumbles back behind the counter, washing his hands aggressively in the sink next to the espresso machine. He doesn’t pull away from underneath the burning stream of water until his fingers are burning more than they were earlier, an angry shade of pink that almost matches the hues of Sanghyuk’s lips.

Inseong shakes his head, hating what he’d compared the color to. “You want your usual?”

“Why don’t I buy you a coffee?” Sanghyuk tries, smiling kindly. There’s an unsaid apology lingering on his tongue that Inseong can see in his eyes, as if the words are being communicated to him through the way the other bats his eyelashes innocently. Inseong smiles, slowly beginning to find the younger’s attempts endearing.

“You know, I get free coffee since I work here.”

“Oh!” Sanghyuk nods, shakes his head after a moment. “I should have realized that...”

He’s embarrassed. Inseong finds himself craving the other’s company, especially after the previous experience he’d been panicked by. “I’ll bring your drink to your table.” He murmurs, and Sanghyuk nods as he leaves his card on the counter. Inseong grabs it and slides it into his apron pocket, deciding he’d buy the other’s drink for him since he’d saved him from the stranger before.

He makes two lattes, and leaves from behind the counter as he walks over to Sanghyuk’s table. The dark haired man is looking out of the window next to him, and jumps when Inseong sets his cup down in front of him. “Thank you,” he mumbles, eyes widening when Inseong sits down across from him.

The brunette reaches into his pocket and hands the other’s card back, and after curls his fingers around his own cup, finding the warmth of the paper reassuring as he watches the rain begin to come down outside.

“Ah...” Sanghyuk starts, but when Inseong turns to him he chokes up, blushing as he looks down at his cup. “Did you finish early tonight?”

“Yeah,” Inseong nods, smiling at the way the other’s fingers dance nervously on the edge of his cup, “I did...” He takes a slow sip of his drink before he sets it down. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Huh?” Sanghyuk’s head snaps upwards, and he shakes his head. “I didn’t know what you were doing until I saw that guy.” Sanghyuk’s eyes are wide, something unsettled hiding behind them. “You were being smart.”

“I guess.” Inseong shrugs. “But still, you came just at the right time...”

“I had to come shoot my shot.” Sanghyuk smirks, looking away bashfully. “I just had good timing, I guess.”

Inseong leans forward, grabbing Sanghyuk’s hand. The ebony haired demon jumps, turning quickly to watch as the other pulls a pen out of his apron pocket. He leans over the other’s knuckle, printing something out on the back of his hand gently. Sanghyuk tries not to laugh at the feeling of the pen pushing softly at his skin, or at the awkwardness of the position he’s in, with his hand bent at an uncomfortable angle, his body pitched forward to bring his hand closer to Inseong.

The brunette pulls away after a moment, content with his work. Sanghyuk’s eyes sparkle with excitement when he pulls his hand back and sees the numbers scrawled prettily against his skin in black ink. They’re printed neatly, there’s no way he could misread one. Inseong had taken his time, prided himself with each number.

“I think you made your shot.”

“Oh, fuck.”

  


“Well, we’re happy to have you here.”

Sanghyuk watches the dark haired boy collapse to his knees, the leader forcing him down against the floor after kicking him. He’s weak, barely able to get up on his own after he’s knocked down. “Get up.”

The boy keeps his head ducked down as the leader pushes him down with the heel of his shoe, a manic smile spreading across his face. “I said, _get up_.”

“Taeil, come on.” Somebody urges from the crowd gathering around the door, “he’s just a kid...”

The leader’s eyes, cruel and analyzing, cut into the boy who’d spoken up like a knife. Immediately he drops his gaze. “I don’t give a fuck.”

Sanghyuk makes eye contact with the boy when he looks up, trembling and scared. His eyes plead for help, and all Sanghyuk can do is stare as he’s beat relentlessly by the leader. He barely registers it, when Taeil drops to his knees and begins laying into the other with his fists and nails, showing him where he belonged immediately.

Youngbin had received the same treatment that the newcomer was currently receiving. Everyone who seemed strong had; it was just how Taeil handled things, how he showed that _he_ was in charge. Sanghyuk looks around the group helplessly, noticing one of his only friends in the legion watching with gleeful eyes.

“Hyungwon...” Sanghyuk whispers, reaching over to grab him. Nobody hears the two of them, all becoming invested in the fight when the newcomer begins to struggle, fighting back. “Why are you happy about this?”

The boy shrugs, cheering for Taeil when he successfully pins the boy again. “It’s just fun to watch, you know?” Sanghyuk turns to watch the boy helplessly slam his fists weakly against Taeil, attempting to save himself from what must feel like the verge of death as the leader continues to berate him. “It’s entertaining.”

The legion is heartless. Sanghyuk pities the boy, and feels his heart wrench when he begins shouting, screaming as he tries to get out from under Taeil.

“Why are you here?” Taeil shouts, slamming the boy against the floor. It must knock the air out of him, as he lays gasping for a moment, unable to give an answer to the leader. “I asked you a question!”

“I’m...” The boy chokes, closing his eyes as he sucks in a breath, “I’m here to join your legion.”

“And what about the runt you brought with you?” Taeil’s voice is sweet like honey, but his words couldn’t be any more disgusting. The boy looks back towards the wide-eyed blonde being held tightly by one of Taeil’s accomplices, eyes wide with terror as he watches his friend be mercilessly beaten for everybody’s entertainment.

“We’re here to join your legion.”

Taeil seems satisfied, standing up finally. The newcomer doesn’t try standing, just lays on his back as he closes his eyes, whispering something akin to a grateful prayer as he tries to catch his breath. Taeil stares down at him, smiles faintly, and slams his foot down into his chest so hard that Sanghyuk hears something crack.

Youngbin stiffens from where he’d been standing at the other end of the crowd, anger filling his body with each passing second. It seems to reach its peak when the boy on the floor wails, clutching his chest as he rolls onto his side, knees pulled up to protect himself from the attack he wasn’t expecting. Blood drips from his nose and mouth, and each time he sobs droplets spatter on the ground.

The crowd disperses when Taeil walks away, and it leaves only Youngbin, Sanghyuk, and the two newcomers in the room alone. Youngbin immediately drops down, bringing the boy into his arms gently, holding him close as he continues to cry.

Youngbin had never been able to turn a blind eye to the beatings, had always taken care of those who had been hurt. He cradles the boy, cooing softly as he strokes his cheek and brushes his fingers through his hair. Sanghyuk looks to the blonde who watches his friend with horrified eyes, reaching over to him gently.

It’s when his fingers brush the boy’s hand that he realizes he’s masked as a demon.

The boy on the floor is too weak to keep up the disguise, and Sanghyuk can tell that the blonde is a human almost immediately.

“Fuck.” Sanghyuk whispers, grabbing the blonde’s attention violently. “You’re...”

“Don’t!” The boy in Youngbin’s arms writhes, hissing when he feels the pain in his chest splinter up through his skin. His eyes are wild as he stares at Sanghyuk, “don’t touch him!”

“I’m helping you,” Sanghyuk tries, raising a hand defensively, to which the boy hesitantly stops struggling, watching worriedly as Sanghyuk raises his own hand to his mouth, gently biting on his thumb until a bead of blood drips down his skin.

The blonde watches nervously, but when Sanghyuk raises his thumb he scrunches up his nose in disgust. Sanghyuk frowns, shoving his hand against the other’s lips. “You either drink this, or they tear you to pieces and feed on you.”

Immediately, the blonde parts his lips and begins to suck on the other’s wound. Youngbin turns his attention back to the boy in his arms, whispering softly to him as his hands drift over his injured chest.

  


Over time, Sanghyuk begins to know the two as Juho and Taeyang.

Juho, the Nosferatu; Taeyang, the human who’d fallen in love with him.

Juho was powerful, and hid a dark past. It seemed only Taeyang had known what had happened to him, but Sanghyuk wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. It seemed heavy, a shadow that weighed him down no matter where he went.

Part of Juho was obviously insane, a part that he was very capable of locking up, trained to overpower if it attempted to dig its way to control inside of him. Sanghyuk wonders if he’s a half-ling, and knows that if he is, he’s got most of their entire legion fooled save for himself and Youngbin. And, well, obviously Taeyang. The two were inseperable.

They’d found the legion through Seokwoo, who had given Juho Youngbin’s contact information. Sanghyuk had only met the boy once, when Youngbin was babysitting the kids in town for spare money during high school and he’d needed help one time. Sanghyuk had gone with him to watch Seokwoo, and had been there when Youngbin gave him his contact information. _Call me if you ever need help, or somewhere to go_.

“I just tracked your phone...” Juho murmurs, sitting on the edge of his bed. Youngbin seems amazed, intrigued by Juho. Taeyang leans against the demon’s back, arms around his waist as he drifts in and out of sleep.

“How’s Seokwoo?” Youngbin hums, shifting from where he sits on the floor. Sanghyuk’s next to him, feeling just as tired as Taeyang looks.

“Ah… I only saw him for a few days a year or so ago… But he seemed well.” Juho smiles softly. “He was really happy to help me out.”

Youngbin seems relieved. He had been Seokwoo’s guardian for a while, when his parents were far too busy to take care of him correctly. He’d been one of the boy’s prime role models growing up. “So I did something right...”

  


When Sanghyuk brings Inseong home for the first time, to the legion, nobody expects it.

Hyungwon’s eyes lock onto Inseong the moment he steps into the large home, watching the wide-eyed human with a fixed, hunter’s stare. Sanghyuk smiles faintly at him, fingers wrapped tightly around Inseong’s wrist as he navigates them towards his bedroom.

Inviting humans into the home was only forbidden on the nights the leader permitted his demons to hunt, and Sanghyuk’s thankful tonight isn’t one of those nights. To Inseong, they must just look like a normal house, full of normal people living normal lives.

“You live with so many other people...” Inseong whispers, causing Sanghyuk’s lips to twitch upwards nervously.

“It’s easier to pay the bills when all off your friends live in one home.” He murmurs, tasting something disgusting when he says the word ‘friends’. Most of the other demons in the legion hated him, and the only thing between him and them was Youngbin. He was one of the youngest demons there, save for Juho and Taeyang, sohe’d been the one punished for most accidents around the home even if he had nothing to do with them. The leader still wasn’t fond of him, and clearly showed his favoritism when it came to who he would allow to do what in the home.

He pulls Inseong quickly to his room, shutting the door softly behind them. Inseong smiles, moving to sit on the edge of the other’s bed as he watches Sanghyuk walk around the room.

“You know,” Inseong begins, fingers twisting against the other’s comforter gently, “you have a really nice figure.” Sanghyuk stops for a moment, turning to look over his shoulder at the other. “I bet you’d look better in bed with me, though.”

“Oh?” Sanghyuk turns to him, smirking. They’d just finished their third date, just finished having a few drinks at the bar. The dark haired demon walks closer to the bed, reaching out before shoving Inseong down against the mattress. The brunette smiles, his hands moving up to grip the other’s hips, pulling him closer. “Keep talking like that...”

  


“Be quiet!” Inseong hisses, burying his face into the crook of Sanghyuk’s neck as the other laughs, holding the brunette tightly on his lap as they sit together in the darkness of the park.

“Nobody’s around, love.” Sanghyuk hums, kissing the other’s cheek before moving down to his neck, humming when Inseong leans back to show off more of his throat to the other. Sanghyuk sighs, pressing his lips to each inch of Inseong’s bare flesh haphazardly.

Adjusting his legs, Inseong slides closer to Sanghyuk, pressing himself right against himas he continues trailing his kisses down the other’s neck. Inseong feels weightless and grounded all at once, Sanghyuk’s touch being the one thing that can make him lose all sense of reality and time. He’s lost in the other, floating and drowning in the sea of the other’s euphoria all at once as he tries to calm his own excitement down.

“I feel you hesitating...” Sanghyuk whispers, latching his lips against the other’s jaw before he slides down, playfully biting the other’s neck before kissing the spot, deciding that’s where he wants to mark the other when Inseong whimpers, shifting against him.

Inseong tries to respond, but the only sound that escapes him is a pained moan when Sanghyuk begins biting and sucking on the spot on his throat, leaving a dark bruise in his wake as he moves on to the next spot, kissing around until he can find another bit of sensitive skin, smirking against Inseong’s neck when his breath hitches.

Sanghyuk’s hands fall low on his hips, toying with the waistband of his jeans. Inseong’s hands clamber down to Sanghyuk’s, shoving his jeans down, raising his hips as Sanghyuk tears them down, hands falling onto his thighs before Inseong pulls off his boxers. “You’re so hot,” Sanghyuk whispers, one of his hands folding around Inseong’s dick while his other moves up to the other’s hair, pulling his head back roughly as he continues kissing his neck.

“Please,” Inseong whines, lifting his hips into the other’s embrace, “please...”

“Use your words, baby.” Sanghyuk coos, pulling away to bring his lips to the other’s, kissing him roughly. When he pulls away, he leaves Inseong breathless, gasping. “Use your words.”

Inseong just moans, and Sanghyuk laughs as he lifts the other off of his hips, settling between the brunette’s legs. “Come on, baby,” Sanghyuk hums, “what do you want?”

“I want you,” Inseong’s voice pitches up when the other’s lips close around his length, and he reaches down to card his fingers through Sanghyuk’s hair.

Underneath the pale light of the moon, Sanghyuk leaves Inseong high, completely elevated in the cold spring air. On a bed of flowers, Inseong shows Sanghyuk how gentle love can be, how pure and innocent a moment can be. All Sanghyuk knows is blood and gore, and Inseong brings out the petals and velvet that Sanghyuk had been terrified of.

Sanghyuk hears Taeyang screaming that night, waking up from a dead sleep to a commotion down the hall.

Muffled shouting berates his bedroom, and he throws open his door to hear Juho’s sobs hidden behind Taeil’s screaming.

“You brought a human into my legion!?”

Sanghyuk races down the hall, meeting a closed bedroom door. One of Taeil’s favorites stands guard, refusing to let the other pass.

“Taehyung, _please_ let me in.”

“I can’t.”

“Get on your knees. On your _fucking_ knees!” Taeil shrieks, and Juho screams. Sanghyuk hears Youngbin shout, and then there’s someone crying. Sanghyuk reaches for the door, but Taehyung steps in front of his hand, shaking his head.

“I _can’t_ let you in.”

“Those are my friends in there.”

“And we’re your legion. Stand down or face the consequences.”

Sanghyuk bristles, standing still as he listens to what happens on the other side of the door. Taeil screams, and Juho begins to sob. It’s the same pained noise from his first night in the legion. Sanghyuk stands motionless, watching the door as it’s thrown open. Taeil storms out, eyes wild and filled with a burning rage. “Oh, Sanghyukie...” He whispers. “Did you know?”

Sanghyuk’s mouth is full of cotton, and Taeil reaches a hand out towards his throat. Youngbin slams into him from behind, sending Taeil to the floor. “He didn’t know!” The redhead shouts. He’d just dyed his hair, and it’s alive like a sparking flame as he defends his friend. “Only Juho and I knew. Leave him out of this!”

Sanghyuk sees Juho tearing his teeth out of Taeyang’s flesh, and he turns and runs, barely feeling his feet underneath him as he breaks for his bedroom door.

  


The second time Inseong visits their home, Sanghyuk isn’t sure if he’ll leave unscathed by the cruelties of his legion. They’d been wary of the younger demon, and especially of the human that he seemed to revolve around. Hyungwon had called Inseong Sanghyuk’s sun, and that the latter was carelessly flitting around him, neglecting his own purpose in order to fit in with somebody who didn’t even know the truth behind what he really was.

Sanghyuk tried to ignore them, but couldn’t push the thought of his lying out of his head. Laying beside Inseong, the brunette tucked underneath Sanghyuk’s arm, protected by the blankets and soft pillows of his bed, Sanghyuk is terrified for Inseong to find out the truth.

“You seem tense,” the brunette murmurs, eyes closed as he pushes closer to the man he’d just begun to call his boyfriend. Sanghyuk smiles faintly, feeling as if the entire world watches him as he leans forward and wraps his arms around Inseong. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something.” He begins, nervously wringing his hands together behind the other’s back. The statement seems to grab Inseong’s attention painfully quickly. The brunette rises from his sleep, the state in which he’d been trapped before draining away from around him; the silk and sweetness of a promised sleep fading like a ghost around him as he wakes up to focus on Sanghyuk. “I’m...”

Inseong cocks his head to the side, watching the way Sanghyuk’s face contorts into an expression he can only describe as nervous. His eyebrows draw down and he bites his lip, snapping it back into place when he lets go of it. Inseong watches it, allured by the other’s motions. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not human.” Sanghyuk whispers, and Inseong laughs, rolling over.

“You’re wacky. Go to bed, babe.”

“No, Inseong,” Sanghyuk reaches for the other, turning him around, “I’m being serious.”

It’s something in Sanghyuk’s voice when he says it. It isn’t just his tone, the way he’s so sure of himself when he says it; it’s his fear that Inseong latches onto, that makes him believe the other, if only just for a split instant of a second. He’s hooked, dangling on each word Sanghyuk says as he finds the courage to speak.

“I’m not a human. Nobody in this house is, other than you.”

In a relationship, the first thing Inseong gave to his partner was his trust. He shrugs, slumping back down against Sanghyuk. The demon watches him, confusion written across his face as the brunette cuddles up to him once again, as if he’s a teddy bear. “I thought things were a little weird here. That explains it.” Inseong murmurs, closing his eyes as he nuzzles his cheek against Sanghyuk’s chest. “So what are you?”

“We’re demons.”

Inseong nods, bringing a hand up to rest on Sanghyuk’s. Whether he believed him or didn’t, Inseong didn’t know or care to know. He trusted Sanghyuk enough to know that he wouldn’t lie to him, and so he just murmurs a quick, “well, that’s okay with me,” before he begins to slip back into the velvet entrapment of sleep.

Sanghyuk scoffs, but lays down as well, arms finding their way around Inseong once again.

  


After Juho had turned Taeyang and the blonde had run away, he hadn’t been the same. His insanity crept through him like poison, and he’d begun to teach Sanghyuk how to harness his abilities more effortlessly before he lost himself to the maniac he knew was bubbling below the surface.

From what Sanghyuk knew already – altering and erasing memories, he was taught how to take and eat them, and how to feed his strength through the memories of others. Juho had learned how to use the ability through Youngbin, who had found out he could steal memories. Alongside that, though, he could anchor himself to his victims through their memories, as if putting a leash on them. He could always find his victim, just as Juho could always find his through drinking their blood.

Though, the reasoning behind Juho’s teachings wasn’t as pure as Sanghyuk envisioned it to be. Juho had found that he hated how Inseong was allowed to stay connected to the legion, when Juho had been forced to ruin his boyfriend’s life. Their situations were completely different, as Sanghyuk had never hid Inseong’s identity as a human, but Juho didn’t care. He wanted the other to feel the same pain he did, to share the aching emptiness that filled him.

And Sanghyuk, ever the oblivious, fell victim to the other’s trick rather easily.

Sanghyuk had eaten memories only once before he decided to go all the way with Inseong. From one of Hyungwon’s kills, he’d extracted few of his memories before his friend had ripped out their heart. He’d watched it happen, felt exhausted and energized at the same time after stealing the man’s thoughts, wrecking his mind, sending him into a flurry of desperate confusion in his last few moments. Sanghyuk didn’t feel bad; it felt like second nature to him. This is what he was made to do; destroy and conquer. He broke people down and infected them with his own poison of loss and amnesia.

Watching the man’s final moments, Sanghyuk only felt a slight discomfort, watching the life bleed from his face after Hyungwon’s clawed hands had torn into his chest. The sight of blood didn’t put Sanghyuk off, this was normal. Hyungwon was cruel, but not to Sanghyuk. So, the latter didn’t mind him or his actions, didn’t mind the havoc he wreaked.

But, that was in the past. It didn’t matter now, not when Sanghyuk was so lost within the man that straddles his lap.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Inseong shuddering on his lap as the waves of sin wash over him, Sanghyuk grinds his hips upwards slowly, easing him into the new feeling he was offering to him. “You’re okay?” Sanghyuk whispers, feeling himself sink lower into the other. Inseong nods, hands wrapped around Sanghyuk’s waist, anchoring himself to the demon.

An angel in Sanghyuk’s eyes, the dim light from his ceiling fan forms a halo around Inseong’s head. His brown hair is tousled, eyes glazed over with a comfortable mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Sanghyuk murmurs, before he gives a sharp thrust upwards, earning a loud gasp from Inseong. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Inseong moans, leaning forward against the other as Sanghyuk begins to quicken the pace of his movements, going from a soft, gentle touch to a fervent, lively swiftness that leaves Inseong’s head spinning, breathlessness springing up in both of them after a few minutes. “Fuck!” He grapples for the other’s shoulders, pulling himself tightly against Sanghyuk.

There’s a moment where Inseong slides back, a gap forming between them before he adjusts himself and slips back onto Sanghyuk’s lap, re-wrapping his legs around the demon’s hips. “I’m close...” He murmurs, closing his eyes and biting his lip to hold back a moan. Sanghyuk had told him to be quiet, but neither of them had genuinely been listening to the command.

Sanghyuk barely hears the other over the blood rushing in his ears. He nods, bringing a hand upwards before carding it through Inseong’s hair. “That’s okay, finish when you’re ready, okay? Don’t wait for me.” He groans as he thrusts upwards, Inseong shouting in response to the sudden movement before burying his face in the other’s neck. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, it’s fucking okay!” Inseong sounds as if he’s about to cry when Sanghyuk repeats the motion, and he lowers a hand to take care of himself when Sanghyuk’s hands fall to his waist. “Fuck...”

Sanghyuk makes eye contact with Inseong, smiling softly before bringing his lips forwards, pulling Inseong closer as he latches himself onto him. The kiss is warm, and Sanghyuk tastes something sweet on the other’s lips. Like coffee with too much sugar, with a caramel flavoring that makes everything that much more sugary. For a moment, just an instant, Sanghyuk’s sure he sees himself in his own thoughts, but he brushes it off. Euphoria had her tricks, and often played them with a mean spirit attached. Inseong stiffens, relaxing again after a moment, before his motions fall still.

Inseong’s breath hitches and he falls forward, forehead knocking against Sanghyuk’s shoulder as his hands raise, falling softly to the bed. “I...”

No pleasure comes from his movements. His hips stop rolling, his legs coming undone, loosely falling from where they’d been wrapped before.

“Inseong? Hey, what’s wrong?” Sanghyuk reaches down, trying to grab onto the other before he’s shoved away weakly by the brunette.

“Where… Sanghyuk...” Inseong shakes his head, staring up though his eyes seem to not register anything. There’s no sense of familiarity when he looks to Sanghyuk, and it’s barely apparent that he’s seeing at _all_.

Beginning to panic, Sanghyuk slides out of the other and lays him down, shaking him roughly. “Hey, what’s going on with you? Inseong, come on, this isn’t funny...” Sanghyuk feels bile rise in his throat, and in his thoughts he sees his own face once again, hair slicked back with sweat as his breathless demeanor seems to make him gasp for air.

Inseong falls still, breath hitching, and Sanghyuk tries desperately to wake him up, shaking as he tries to figure out what he’d done. “Inseong!” He shouts, sliding off of the bed before rifling around through the clothes on the floor to find Inseong’s clothes. “Fuck… Fuck, fuck.”

He quickly dresses the other, stumbling as he rushes to put his own sweats on before he raises the other. With a hand under his knees and one under his shoulders, Sanghyuk runs from his room, desperate to find somebody who can help him. The other is limp in his arms, completely senseless as Sanghyuk searches for help.

“Youngbin?” He checks the older’s room, and upon seeing an empty space, goes to his next best guess for help. “Hyungwon?”

Again, Sanghyuk is met with an empty room, and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he sees tears fall onto Inseong’s cheek. He chokes back a sob when he hears the floor creak behind himself, and he whips around to see Juho standing in the hall, the shadows making him appear harsh.

For a moment, Sanghyuk thinks he sees the other grinning.

“He… Juho, I don’t...” Sanghyuk can barely force the words out. He’s terrified, doesn’t know what he’d done to the other or why. “I don’t...” He repeats, shaking his head. “I don’t know what’s going on.” He whispers, shifting the other in his arms. He holds him closer, cradling him. “Juho, I...”

“I’ll take him to the hospital.”

Sanghyuk nods, quickly pushing Inseong into the other’s arms. He follows Juho outside, to the driveway, and to Juho’s car. It only had two seats, so Sanghyuk decides that he’d embed his trust in Juho, praying he’d stick to his word.

Juho slides into the driver’s seat after setting Inseong in the passenger seat, and Sanghyuk worries over the brunette before Juho starts the car. When he does, he shuts the door and steps back, watching Juho peel out of the driveway and into the darkening street.

The sky bleeds black, the bright colors from the day disappearing smoothly into the horizon as they chase the tireless sun.

Sanghyuk doesn’t know how long he stands there for, rooted in the same place as he stares at the last place he’d seen the car. He isn’t sure if he’d even blinked after the headlights dipped below the road and disappeared behind a cluster of trees behind the guardrail.

What had he done?

He can’t figure it out. He just remembers the night he’d spent with Hyungwon, of how it had felt to destroy something. To tear it apart, to take something as pure as a human life and crush it between his hands and teeth.

He was created to destroy. He was a monster, and humankind was his prime target.

“Sanghyuk?”

The boy turns slowly, catching gazes with Youngbin. The redhead smiles softly, reaching a hand out. Sanghyuk cringes away, afraid of breaking somebody else. Youngbin notices the foreign motion, and draws back slowly. “What’s wrong..?”

Sanghyuk collapses, sobs racking his body as he tries to explain what had happened to Youngbin. The redhead stands above him, not offering any assuring contact or gentle reassurance that he had made a mistake. He only stands and stares, and when Sanghyuk finally finishes gasping and choking out his words, he grinds his teeth together.

Expecting for the other to be mad, to lash out at him for being so careless, Sanghyuk only cries harder, screaming into his palms as he begins to _hate_ himself for whatever he’d done. Inseong had vanished, Sanghyuk doesn’t understand how he knows it, but he felt it. Inseong was gone, and he’d buckled an empty man into the passenger seat of Juho’s car.

“Where’s Juho?”

At the question, Sanghyuk shudders. Youngbin’s voice is cold, and his eyes are just open gates to show the flood of rage coursing through his body.

“H-He...” Sanghyuk coughs, trying to take a deep breath to calm himself down. He stares at the ground, finding it easier to speak to the concrete than to Youngbin himself. All he sees of the other is his shoes, and even that gives him anxiety. “He took Inseong to the hospital.”

“When?”

“I can’t remember.” Sanghyuk whispers, shaking his head. “It felt like a long time ago.”

Youngbin suddenly reaches down and grabs Sanghyuk’s shoulder. “I need you to go inside and pack a bag.”

It feels as if the ground is torn out from underneath him. Sanghyuk just looks up, staring at the redhead who stares back down at him coldly. Was he being kicked out? “A bag...” He repeats, eyes wide as he tries to read the other further.

“We’re leaving.”

“What!?” Sanghyuk’s fingers clench together, and he feels his palms sting from the tight grip he has on them. “Inseong… I won’t leave until I know he’s safe.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, then, because I’m leaving.”

Sanghyuk isn’t used to seeing Youngbin act so heartless. He’s numb to everything, including the cold night air around him. When Sanghyuk shivers, Youngbin seems to be too hot, carding his hands aggressively through his hair. “I was out, and I brought back this half-ling...”

“What!?”

“Don’t give me that! He’s the kid of that hunter family… I owed them. They’re dead.” Youngbin seems distracted by something, turning to look back towards the house. “They want us out of here by dawn.”

  


Sanghyuk doesn’t know what to feel.

What drives him is anger and hatred, directed solely at himself. All he can think of is Inseong falling against him, not recognizing him.

And, after mulling it over, Sanghyuk begins to realize what he’d done.

The sweetness he tasted before is suddenly turning bitter, and he grimaces as he remembers the warmth he’d felt. He begins to hate himself even more when he realizes a part of himself had _enjoyed_ the feeling. He’d ruined Inseong, taken everything from him, and he liked it.

He didn’t know how to return memories to others, didn’t even know if he knew how. Juho had coincidentally left all of that training out of his class’s curriculum, hadn’t he? He sits down on the edge of his bed, rocking back and forth as he realizes how badly he’d fucked up.

A knock on his door breaks him out of his panicked state, and he looks up when Juho steps into his room.

Silence encapsulates them. Juho shuts the door behind himself, and with a flick of his wrist locks it. Sanghyuk feels on edge, watching Juho walk slowly towards him.

From the sincere look on the younger’s face, he expects him to say something comforting. When he finally speaks, though, standing inches away from Sanghyuk, his skin crawls and his blood boils. “You deserve all of what’s coming to you.”

“You tricked me.” Sanghyuk deadpans, head cocked to the side as he stares up at the other. “Right? You wanted this to happen.”

“Of course I did.” Juho smiles, gently reaching forward to brush his fingers through Sanghyuk’s hair. “You let Taeyang die.”

“That… Wasn’t my fault,” Sanghyuk slowly begins to feel less sorry for himself, less angry at his own ability and more enraged at who had dragged it out of him. “ _You_ brought a human into the legion, and then lied about it. You’re lucky Youngbin covered for you. But you’re too stupid to see that, aren’t you?” Sanghyuk stands up, takes a step forward, and Juho takes one back. “ _You_ lied. You hurt Taeyang, you can’t blame that shit on me!”

“But you were allowed to have Inseong!?”

“They were two _extremely_ different situations!” Sanghyuk shouts, shoving the other backwards. “And you just fucking ruined _both_ of them!”

Juho swings at Sanghyuk, and the latter, not expecting it, is dropped almost instantly. Juho falls on top of him, straddling him before placing his hands against his forehead. “Well, you ruined that last one. But you won’t remember it.”

The next few minutes pass by in hours. For what feels like hours, Sanghyuk only feels an unbearable burning, horrible pain. He writhes on the floor underneath Juho, screaming and sobbing as he feels a cold set in over his body. The sounds around him are muffled, as if he’s underwater. From the way his lungs burn and he can barely breathe, he would genuinely expect for water to be surrounding him and filling his mouth and throat.

Sanghyuk is drowning.

He feels the pain lessen gradually, until he’s laying breathless on the ground staring upwards at the ceiling.

He can’t remember why he and Juho had been arguing, what they’d even been yelling about in the first place. The last few hours are a blur to him, and oddly he feels at a loss.

Why did he feel so sad? He brings a hand to his chest, taking a slow breath as he begins to sit up. He finally notices Youngbin pinning Juho, fists flying as he screams at the younger.

“What the fuck did you _do_!?”

There’s no time for Juho to respond before Youngbin’s fist connects with his jaw. “I _protected_ you for so long and _this_ is what you do in return!?”

Sanghyuk’s eyes widen. “Youngbin!” He shouts, reaching over to grab the redhead’s shoulder. “Youngbin, stop!”

The redhead gasps, turning to Sanghyuk. His eyes are wide, tear filled. “You’re… You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” Sanghyuk assures, reaching forward. “What’s going on?”

Youngbin’s anger immediately returns. Juho laughs, and immediately he has two hands wrapped around his throat from the boy on top of him. “You didn’t. Tell me you fucking didn’t take Inseong from him.”

The name sets Sanghyuk’s nerves on fire. His fight or flight instinct seems to come to life, fire in his chest as he repeats the name in his head. _Inseong_. It was so familiar, but he was sure he’d never heard it before. There was nobody he’d ever met with that name, was there?

Juho’s laughing is cut short from the lack of oxygen in his lungs, but he’s still able to smile cruelly at Youngbin, his teeth red from the blood draining from the split lip the redhead above him had left in the wake of the rings on his fingers. “You’re dead, Juho.”

Juho’s smile falls, and he starts struggling when one of Youngbin’s hands drifts to his forehead. “No!” He shouts, clawing at the other’s hand. “Youngbin, Youngbin _no_!”

The redhead closes his eyes, and Sanghyuk has to cover his ears when Juho begins screaming, thrashing like a fish out of water underneath the older. “Stop!” He shrieks, tears sliding through his eyelids as he tries to shove the other off of him.

Youngbin is glued in position, though, rooted to the floor. He doesn’t budge at the other’s seemingly weak struggling, shifting uncomfortably after a moment before finally opening his eyes again. Juho’s cries turn to a soft whimper, and he’s left laying curled up on his side when Youngbin steps back from him finally.

“Youngbin... What did you do?” Sanghyuk whispers, and pitifully Youngbin looks down at him.

“This is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you.” Youngbin whispers, kneeling down in front of Sanghyuk, cupping his cheeks in his hands. “It’ll be over soon, okay? No more pain.”

“What...”

“If you ever remember, or if I ever let you have these back, please forgive me.” Youngbin shakes his head, smiling bitterly. “I don’t ever want to hurt you, okay? You’re all I have left, you’re all I care about.”

“Youngbin,” Sanghyuk’s tone is low, warning. “What are you talking about?”

“You won’t remember any of it. No Juho, no Inseong,” again, at the sound of the name, Sanghyuk’s sent reeling, “I’m sorry.”

Sanghyuk wakes up with his head on Youngbin’s lap. The redhead is sobbing into his hands, quietly as to not awake the boy using his legs as a pillow.

Wincing at the dull ache in his head, Sanghyuk sits up, gently wrapping his arms around his friend’s shoulders. “What’s wrong, ‘Bin?”

“Nothing...” Youngbin sniffles, immediately hugging the other back, pulling him as close as he can, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sanghyuk notices a stranger on the other side of the room, a boy rolled on his side, absently drawing circles on the floor with his finger as if he’d forgotten what he was in the room to do. “Hey, who’s that?”

“Nobody important.” Youngbin assures. “He’s leaving, not with us though. Are you done packing?”


	12. i would die for your heaven

Sanghyuk doesn’t open his eyes when he regains his senses. He lays still, feeling somebody’s hands gently grip his shoulders, holding him up. There’s something underneath him, pillowing the back of his head. The faint smell of cologne washes over him, so familiar yet so far away. Sanghyuk’s afraid if he opens his eyes, the situation will change and he’ll be lost to the strange comfort he finds in a complete assurance of who he is, where he is, and why he is.

There’s voices all around him, yet Sanghyuk can’t make out what they’re saying. For all he knows, he’s underwater, breathing in the sickly salt of the ocean as an argument rages on the waves above him. He’s unable to move, body strapped down by seaweed to the floor below him.

The sand and sediment of the ocean floor will bury him, and he doesn’t fight it. It crawls over him, he feels himself go numb in his feet, ankles, knees, thighs… The ice cold of the dirt clambers hungrily up to his hips, to his stomach and chest, until soon he feels it wrapping possessively over his throat.

For a moment, Sanghyuk sees Youngbin. It’s faint, and it isn’t necessarily his eyes that catch the flicker of movement. It’s his other senses, heightened from the lack of hearing. He feels him, tastes tears that remind him of when Youngbin had him pinned against the kitchen table, screaming for forgiveness while at the same time begging for it all to stop.

It’s that moment that reminds Sanghyuk of Chanhee, of what had happened before the ocean had swept him away, into a peaceful, killing slumber. He remembers Youngkyun, the fear in his eyes as he ran with Jaeyoon upstairs, with Chanhee clumsily and blindly hauling after them.

And then he remembers Inseong, can finally put a name to the familiarity that surrounds him. The ocean is quiet, a lull between life and death. When Sanghyuk finally opens his eyes, he sees the surface far above him. The sun cuts through the waves, rippling and swaying above him. He can’t turn his head, still held down by the sand that washes slowly towards his mouth and nose, ready to plug his only lifeline in the vast wasteland he’s consumed by, but he knows what’s below him.

He’s pinned between the world above him, what’s outside of the lucid dream he’s locked himself in, and death. He feels a faint burning in his chest, a soft pinch in the side of his neck, and the ocean floor shoots upwards and covers the rest of him, burying him in an attempt to drag him fully into the depths.

Sanghyuk’s thoughts become muddled, and his vision once again blackens though his eyes remain open. Unable to breathe, his head swims and his throat screams for air that it can’t receive. His chest lurches once, twice, three times before it finally stills.

He feels death grab him, whisper sweet nothings and promises of a better life into his ear with a hot, tempting breath. He stares forward, feeling the hands and fingers of the devil claw hungrily at his chest, at the heart he can barely feel beating anymore.

When the tendrils finally pierce his skin, the blackness around him becomes white. It’s pure, innocuous.

Inseong stands at the end of the whiteness, arms crossed as he stares at Sanghyuk. No words pass between them, but his piercing gaze is what breaks the binds that had held Sanghyuk back. He can stand, which he does with difficulty. He sways when he’s finally on his feet, knees threatening to buckle underneath him as he returns the other’s gaze, softer and curious.

He feels someone behind him, and turns to see the white fade to black. On the other side of him is Youngbin, and next to him is an attentive, young brunette. He looks the same as he did when he’d first appeared at the legion with Youngbin, so full of thought and worry yet unable to speak any of it.

“Chanhee...”

Sanghyuk turns around, making sure Inseong’s still waiting for him on the other side of whatever room he’s trapped in. Hesitantly, he takes a faltering step backwards, towards the blonde. He can’t look away from his family, throat clenched and eyes filling with tears. “You’re not...”

That version of Chanhee is dead, with hands at his sides. One slowly interlocks with Youngbin’s, and Sanghyuk watches as a hand forms out of the blackness next to the younger man, wrapping around his other. A pair of red eyes blink to life, standing much higher than either of the two in the darkness.

“Sanghyuk,” the dark haired boy is forced painfully to turn around, and Inseong outstretches his hand towards him, “come on.”

He turns back towards the darkness, but the doorway is empty save for the red eyes. A hollow, high pitched wail comes from whatever hides behind the burning pinpricks of ruby, and the air becomes colder, freezing Sanghyuk in place. It feels as if he’s being drawn towards the doorway, towards the creature that lured him in, but he’s stopped again by Inseong calling out.

Finally, he takes another step back, and another, until he’s running towards the blonde.

The moment their hands touch, he’s forced upwards and thrown back into reality.

His chest hits the floor, and he whips quickly to the side to see why he’d been moved so quickly. Juho pins Inseong to the ground, knees pressed to the other’s arms, which are locked outstretched, fingers twitching as he attempts to free himself from the other in any way.

Sanghyuk sees the fight in Inseong’s eyes diminish as he realize he’s helpless, completely at the other’s mercy.

“Now, that’s more like it.” The long haired man remarks, slowly bringing his hands up to grab onto Inseong’s shoulders, “stay still for me.”

Taeyang stands above the both of them, arms crossed as he smirks down at the mess. The three are oblivious to Sanghyuk’s waking state, and Juho’s unprepared for when the demon throws himself into his side, knocking him backwards and off of Inseong.

Sanghyuk can only feel what he does. He isn’t in control anymore, whatever had kept him sane before had snapped, the chord being worn too thin after his memories were returned to him. “You fucking _freak_!” He shrieks, grabbing the other’s collar before lifting him, slamming him back into the ground roughly. “Don’t _ever_ fucking touch him, do you understand me!?”

He hears Inseong whimper behind him, and Sanghyuk turns roughly to see how tightly Taeyang’s wrapped his arm around the blonde’s throat, pinning him against himself. “Let Juho go.”

“You first.”

Taeyang grits his teeth, shoving Inseong away from himself. The blonde stumbles, collapsing towards the floor. Sanghyuk shoots towards him, catching him the moment before he hits the ground. “Fuck, are you okay?” He whispers, protective hands crawling upwards to cradle the other’s head.

Juho doesn’t move from where he’d been pinned. He had sat up, but his eyes were locked on Taeyang, unblinking as he inspects a small, red spatter on the boy’s collar.

Sanghyuk seems to notice it in the same instant, knows it’s not his own blood as Taeyang’s outfit was different from when he’d attempted to kill him.

The spatter is dull, semi coagulated on his sweater. A disgusting red brown clashing against an innocent white, Sanghyuk begins to see a much darker story painting itself beside what was currently being written. The road forks, two paths that open up for every individual in the room. Inseong sees it, and Juho’s the helpless navigator who finally cut the roses and thorns that had blocked off the second, secret truth.

“Taeyang...” Juho murmurs, standing slowly. He’s calm, hands still as he lifts them to grab the small piece of cloth beside the other’s neck. The blonde turns lovingly towards the half-ling, his faint smile faltering when he glimpses down at the stained white collar Juho’s pulled towards himself. “Taeyang, this isn’t your blood.”

“How do you know?” Taeyang grins nervously, biting his lip. “Come on, we’re in the middle of something...” His eyes flit to Sanghyuk and Inseong, before they return back to the other.

Sanghyuk slowly pulls Inseong away, surveying the area around them quickly. When he’d fallen, he’d lost his knives. The dagger is across the room from him, and Youngbin’s knife is laying near Juho, underneath the heel of the other’s shoe.

Slowly, the leader brings the cloth to his nose, closing his eyes as he breathes in the scent of the blood. When he opens them again, an unfiltered rage begins to fill his eyes, his lips twitching upwards and downwards quickly, as if he doesn’t know whether he should frown or smile with disbelief. “You didn’t.”

Sanghyuk brings Inseong’s head closer to him, acting as a barrier between the two half-lings and the human. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, turning to shelter him further, “nothing bad will happen to you, ‘Seong...”

“Tell me you didn’t.” Juho stifles a laugh, but he’s unable to hold it back. He doubles over, laughing as he brings his hands to clutch his chest. “Tell me you didn’t do it, Taeyang!” His words come out choked, humorless though he can’t stop laughing. When he finally sees the knife on the floor, he grabs it slowly, raising back up to stand above the other, twirling the knife between his fingers haphazardly.

“I...” Taeyang whispers, taking a step back. “You and I were happy...”

“You’re fucking dead.” Juho’s laugh dies in his throat, and the frown finally sets in as he advances on the other. “All of this, you played with me. You made my life a fucking hell, and the second I found happiness you stepped on it.” His calmness begins to diminish, trickling down into a burbling, festering resentment that begins to consume him. “I can’t believe you had the balls to do it.”

“I don’t...”

“Killing Seokwoo...” Juho counters each step Taeyang takes, and the flicking of Youngbin’s knife between his fingers slowly stills. “I just can’t believe you actually did it.”

“I did it for us!” Taeyang defends, ducking out of the way when Juho swings the knife. “We were _happy_!”

“Bullshit! _You_ were happy!” Juho cries, reaching forward to grab the other’s collar again. He throws him to the ground, and Sanghyuk takes the chance to pull himself and Inseong off of the ground, running quickly in the direction of the stairs. They leave the shouting, the screaming and fighting of a lost love behind them.

On the way to the stairs, Sanghyuk reaches down and snatches his dagger from the ground, following after Inseong as the two ascend the stairs. “You need to hide,” Sanghyuk starts, pausing for a second when he hears a muffled scream from down the hall. He pushes Inseong in the other direction. “There. Hide that way, I’ll come find you after this is over.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Inseong muses, but he looks guilty, “I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that,” Sanghyuk dismisses, shaking his head, “neither of us knew the whole story, yeah?” Inseong nods, and Sanghyuk raises his hand in an attempt to cup the other’s cheek. When Inseong flinches away, Sanghyuk drops his hand in defeat. “I’ll find you.”

“Don’t forget about me.”

“You, too.” Sanghyuk quips, turning in the direction of the scream when Inseong ducks into the darkness of the hallway.

Part of him holds back, knowing that there’s a good chance he won’t be exiting the room once again upon entering it.

Though, when Youngkyun screams again, he doesn’t find he cares all that much. He sees the room he’d been trapped in before, the white and black inching closer to him as he’s held down, bound in the center of the room as each side races to claim him before the other does.

“Youngkyun!”

He shoves the door open, revealing a near empty room. It’s filled with storage boxes, ripped tape on the top of most, all overflowing with odd, out of place objects. Blankets, pillows, children’s clothes… How many strays did Juho house? Sanghyuk shivers, turning to look around slowly, surveying his surroundings.

A faint, shuddering breath comes from behind a stack of overturned boxes, contents like glassware and old books spilling out on the floor. Slowly, Sanghyuk creeps around the boxes, finding Jaeyoon laying on the ground, glass shards surrounding him. Lucky pieces pierce his arms, blood spilling and trickling out of the wounds and onto the floor.

“Sanghyuk...” He whispers, eyes fluttering open. “They’re…” Sanghyuk finally notices the gaping wound in the other’s chest. Jaeyoon gasps, bringing a hand up to clutch the flesh tightly. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, letting it out shakily. “You need to find them.”

“Are you alright?”

“I will be.” Jaeyoon closes his eyes again, keeping his fingers tight on his shirt. It’s soaked, red staining his chest. His clothes are torn, and Sanghyuk can see the flesh underneath his clothing torn and deep. “Youngkyun’s hiding nearby. Chanhee… I don’t know where he is, but you need to be prepared.”

Sanghyuk nods, taking a final glance to Jaeyoon before he starts to search the room. He steps around the dark area, sliding his dagger into his hand as he analyzes every inch of the space he’d found himself lost in.

A connected room boasts light through an open door, and Sanghyuk hears somebody gagging on the other side when he approaches it. Slowly, he pushes open the door.

Chanhee turns towards the door when it’s thrown open, but he doesn’t make a move towards Sanghyuk. His eyes are glazed over, pain clear through them. “Sanghyuk...” He smiles faintly, before his face contorts with pain and he drops his head, gagging. He dry heaves, spitting on the floor in an attempt to throw up. His mouth is dry.

“Sanghyuk, I have a request.”

Chanhee’s voice rings through the room like a bell. Oddly, Sanghyuk imagines a large, golden church bell, swinging back and forth like a warning. “I’m sorry for always bothering you,” he laughs, coughing. His body racks when he does, and his chest rises and falls unevenly as he attempts to throw up one last time.

His body, attempting to purge the poison that closes in on him, is failing. He raises his head, turning from where he’s down on his knees to look at Sanghyuk, who still stands motionless in the doorway. Both of them know that he’s dangerous, a ticking time bomb that could erupt at any moment, and tear Sanghyuk to pieces. “I’ve always been such a nuisance… But I have one last, last thing to ask you for.”

Sanghyuk nods, slowly sliding his dagger back into his sleeve as he approaches the other. “What is it, Chanhee? Anything.” Sanghyuk smiles faintly, slowly kneeling next to the other. He raises a hand, placing it on the other’s back. He knows the other can’t get rid of the poison, no matter how hard his body wants to. It’s sinking into him further each passing moment; Sanghyuk can see the veins in his neck turning black.

The room is golden, the light bulbs above the two giving off a brilliant, warm light. They’re in another small room, but this one is void of boxes. There’s a bed with white, pristine sheets fitted around it and a silk comforter neatly folded on top of it all. The pillows are black, sitting at attention next to the folded blankets. Sanghyuk wonders how many strays had used the room as a safe place during the years.

Honestly, Sanghyuk finds it amazing. Juho had taken in so many lost, hopeless souls, and taken care of them so preciously that they’d still been around to help him in his time of need as well. Jisung was just another stray, an angel that needed a home and found one in the confines of Juho’s legion. But, Sanghyuk still hated him. No matter what good deeds he’d done in his years, his crime is unforgivable.

“Anything?” Chanhee gazes upwards wistfully, and slowly sits back from his position on his knees. He falls back, legs tucked underneath him before he raises his hands up to Sanghyuk’s, one inching up his sleeve and dragging the dagger down. “Anything...” He repeats, coiling Sanghyuk’s fingers around the blade of the dagger. Sanghyuk’s breath hitches, and he quickly shakes his head as he tries to pull his arm away.

“No… Chanhee, not that. I can’t-”

“-Sanghyuk,” Chanhee murmurs, “we don’t have much time… I can’t hold it back for much longer.”

The dagger is cold in Sanghyuk’s hand, and it contrasts horribly against the warmth of Chanhee’s smile. He takes the tip of the dagger in his fingers and draws it forward, placing it against his chest, right above his heart. “Sanghyuk, I need you to kill me.”

The fear is gone from Chanhee’s voice, and it seems to have transferred hosts. Sanghyuk feels it weighing him down, a pit in his stomach as he draws the dagger away from Chanhee. “I can’t.” He whispers, earning a small huff of disagreement from Chanhee.

“You said _anything_.” He hisses, grabbing the dagger again. His patience returns a moment later, and he places it back against his chest. “So, kill me. I can’t hurt you, or Youngkyun… And what I did to Jaeyoon...” He smiles pitifully, tears dripping suddenly down his cheeks. “I hurt him real bad, Sanghyuk. And Youngkyun, I _love_ him. Seeing the fear on his face, running from me… I need you to-”

His voice is cut off by a sharp gasp, and Chanhee doubles over as he grips his chest. Sanghyuk sees a flash of black blood in the veins on his wrist when he raises it to grip at his chest, gasping and groaning with pain as he clutches his skin. “-Kill me!” Chanhee shouts, lunging towards Sanghyuk. He grabs his shoulders, shaking him as the tears continue to fall.

Sanghyuk feels frozen. His dagger is still pressed tightly against his palm, yet he can’t move, can’t drop it from the offensive position Chanhee had poised it in. “Chanhee...”

“Kill me!” The younger screams, sobs tearing through his body. “It’s...” He winces, hand still placed over his heart. “It hurts so bad, Sanghyuk…”

“No… I-I can’t,” Sanghyuk whispers, shaking his head. “I can’t hurt you, I can’t...”

“It isn’t me anymore!” Chanhee shrieks, falling forward. He pulls his hand away, violently jerking Sanghyuk’s closer. The blade pierces his skin ever so slightly, and his eye twitches with pain yet he says nothing. “You said _anything_! This is it!” He shakes his head, bringing a hand down to grab the blade when Sanghyuk begins to drop it, the fear making his hands shake. “Sanghyuk, come on…” His palm slices open the moment he wraps it around the blade, and his blood drips onto the other’s lap. “Stop wasting time!”

Sanghyuk remembers every second he’d spent with the other. It rushes back in flying colors, every detail more prominent than the last. It all leads up to this moment, this golden moment in the enemy legion. His grip tightens around the blade. He knew this is what it was going to have to come to; didn’t he? He came into this knowing that one of them would die, and that now that Chanhee wasn’t Chanhee anymore… He bites his lip, hands continuing to tremble.

One last time, the room appears before him. On one side, a blank, white canvas, and on the other stands Youngbin and the same Chanhee that kneels in front of Sanghyuk now, who’s no longer grounded just in reality, but finds himself in purgatory. Sanghyuk whines quietly, lips trembling as he bites back his tears harshly.

Chanhee was fading, and it was his job to protect the rest of the legion Youngbin had entrusted him with. He comes back to reality quickly, back to Chanhee screaming for the one thing he was terrified of, while Sanghyuk was to be the one to deal it to him.

“I love you so much,” Sanghyuk starts, voice trembling as he stills his hand. Chanhee sits up straighter, nodding quickly.

“I love you, too.”

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Sanghyuk whispers, bringing a hand up to brush through Chanhee’s hair. They both know that there’s no other choice, and that Chanhee would stop at nothing to end the monster that was crawling out of his skin before it had even begun to scratch at the surface for the final time, before its strength was fully augmented.

Chanhee’s hands move up to rest on top of Sanghyuk’s, urging them gently forwards, inching the blade further and further into his skin. Pain writes itself clearly across his face, but he doesn’t make a sound. He only guides Sanghyuk further, sighing softly when the other stops. “I need you to end it.”

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t-”

“-this isn’t your fault. Stop blaming yourself for what you had no control over.” For one last blink of a moment, sanity trickles back into Chanhee, a calm tone edging over his voice. Sanghyuk winces, bringing a hand up to rest on top of Chanhee’s head. “Tell Youngkyun I love him, okay?”

“I promise,” Sanghyuk whispers, closing his eyes when his tears finally start to fall. Chanhee falls on top of him when Sanghyuk finally twists the blade forward fully, his curled knuckles finally making contact with the other’s chest. Chanhee’s gasp is another bell, a death toll that alerts the building that one of the main threats had passed. “I-”

“-Thank you.”

Chanhee’s head meets Sanghyuk’s shoulder, and Sanghyuk can’t bring himself to push the other away, to escape from the corpse on top of him. He’s numb, eyes closed and unable to view what he’d done. He forces himself to drag the dagger back, sobs when he hears the awful sound it makes as it exits the other’s chest.

“It hurts.” Taeyang whimpers, fingers clawing at Juho’s shirt. The knife lodges itself further in his stomach; and he’s become the victim of his own struggling. “Juho, please, please don’t do this… I love you so much… We can fix things, I can be better.” He smiles, lost in his own head about how wonderful their love could become; oblivious to what he’d done to the other, about how he’d taken a pair of beautiful scissors and sliced the red thread that kept Juho sane, kept the human half of him in charge while the demon festered and grew beneath his skin like a parasite.

The leader looks down at him, humor written across his face. He’s having far too good of a time with this, and feels like if he stops he’ll have to face the situation he’d found himself in head on. He wishes not to do so, and would much rather continue watching the tortured look on the other’s face while he ripped his life away. He knows when he’s done, it’ll only be a matter of time before Sanghyuk comes to kill him. “You did this to yourself.”

Falling back against the wall, Taeyang whines at the feeling of the blade in his skin, digging and twisting at Juho’s command. “Please,” he begs, feeling a drop of blood slide past his lips, “please see things my way. Let’s be happy, we can still… There’s still so much we can do.” Juho presses Youngbin’s knife tighter into Taeyang’s stomach, and the blonde lurches backwards, groaning. “Please stop...”

“Alright, fine… I suppose I can make it a little easier...” Juho crouches down, wrapping his slender fingers around the steel that had encased the blade before he’d stabbed the other, dropping him in seconds in the now vacant halls. He pulls it out slowly, earning a pained moan to pass the other’s lips. Blood drips from the wound, staining Taeyang’s clothes and the floor underneath him red when it begins to pool there.

“Th-thank you...” He whispers, eyelids fluttering shut before they’re thrown back open. He screams after the knife is planted firmly into his chest, underneath his heart by just enough not to damage it. “Fuck!” He screams, throwing himself back against the wall as he writhes, hands pressing against the first wound to avoid bleeding out. “Juho, come on! Stop, stop it! Why can’t you just see that I...”

“You love me?” Juho smiles, ripping the knife out of the other’s skin before shoving it back in. “You love me? Don’t lie to yourself like that. You’re invested with who you think I am, who you remember saving you from that home. Your gratitude isn’t affection; you were jealous.”

Taeyang’s too hurt to respond, he just grits his teeth as Juho continues.

“You wanted what I had. You wanted it all. My freedom, my lack of a hateful family… You grew up to be just like your mother, right?”

“Fuck you!”

Juho sighs, brushing his fingers through the other’s hair. “You’re an obstacle, you know? You always were. Following me to Youngbin’s legion… Making me fall in love with you… I can’t say ‘nothing personal’, because this is all personal.” Juho jerks the knife upwards, and Taeyang lets out a sob, hands desperately clawing at Juho’s in an attempt to stop him. “You deserve this.”

Inseong’s the one who finds Sanghyuk. He pulls the other out of the room, out of the pool of blood that had soaked his legs and chest, coating him in the slowly darkening liquid. It’s sticky; Inseong tries not to touch it as he coaxes Sanghyuk out of the storage room and into the hall. “I got worried… You were gone for so long.”

“I killed him.”

There’s nothing Inseong can say to help the other. He simply grabs hold of him, drawing him tightly to his chest. Sanghyuk doesn’t move, just stands motionless, pressed to the other tightly. He knows he’d done the right thing, but… Chanhee had suffered because of him.

Of course, he couldn’t have left the two at the hotel while he and Jaeyoon came to kill Juho. Jisung was there to warn Sanghyuk, he’s sure of it. If he’d left Chanhee and Youngkyun at the hotel, they’d have been killed. “I...” He whispers, finally raising a hand to clutch the other’s shirt. “I need to kill Juho.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Inseong murmurs, slowly pulling back to look at Sanghyuk. “Are you sure?”

“I want this to be over… I want it all to be over.”

Sanghyuk slides past Inseong, and drags his feet as he walks towards the stairs. In one hand he still holds his dagger tightly, and doesn’t bother to wipe off the black blood that covers it as he descends the stairs. He looks up as he enters the main room, where he’d run with Inseong what felt like lifetimes before.

Juho kneels in the center of the room, and when Sanghyuk begins walking towards him, he looks up tiredly. “Is it over?” He murmurs, to which Sanghyuk stares down at him. There’s no anger on his face, just a disgust that he refuses to shake off. Juho looks at the blood covering Sanghyuk, smirking. “You killed Chan-”

Sanghyuk’s dagger ends the other’s sentence before he’s able to finish it. Juho’s hands raise to his throat, flexing and twitching as his body begins to fail him. He falls forward, and Sanghyuk doesn’t feel the urge to retrieve his dagger until he remembers it’s a gift from Youngbin. He grabs it angrily, wiping Juho’s blood on his sleeve in an attempt to clean the blade. Inseong stands in the doorway to the room, and at the display he’d witnessed, turns and throws up.

Sanghyuk spends the next few minutes searching for Youngbin’s own knife, and when he finds it he wanders back upstairs to find Youngkyun and Jaeyoon, ready to take them far, far away from the city.

* * *

Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, Sanghyuk navigates the car tiredly through the nightly traffic. He’d given Youngkyun and Jaeyoon the day to process what had occurred, given them time to shower and pack the rest of their things from their first home before they all crammed into the car together so they could leave the city once and for all.

Inseong had followed Sanghyuk blindly, and the younger didn’t know how to turn away the only person that seemed to accept him. Youngkyun hadn’t spoken to him after Sanghyuk tried to explain what had happened; he’d just gone to his room and cried for what seemed like hours. Jaeyoon had nodded, had told Sanghyuk he understood, but nobody could believe that their baby was gone.

The drive is long, exhausting, but soon Sanghyuk pulls onto the highway and exits the city. The familiar streets and lives the group had suddenly left behind disappears behind them as pinpricks of light against a clear night sky. Ahead of them, a blank slate stretches out for miles.

“I… Um.” Inseong clears his throat. “I know where we can go, even if it’s just for a little bit.”

No answer follows Inseong’s words, but Sanghyuk glances at him, silently begging for him to continue. Inseong bites his lip. “It’s, uh, a complex in Jinhae… My father used to be close friends with the owner, and he’s had difficulty renting out apartments lately because he had to up his price… I’m sure he’d let us stay there, though. He owes my father.”

“Can you get me directions?” Sanghyuk coughs, sniffling after he’s muttered it. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, I’ll just...” Inseong reaches down into the bag he’d packed, grabbing a charger out of it before placing it between his teeth. He digs through it after, fishing through it until he pulls out his phone. He plugs it into the car after he zips his bag back up, clicking around on the device for a moment before hooking himself up to the Bluetooth of the car.

Directions begin being told to Sanghyuk by a woman with a monotonous voice, yet even her emotionless tone sounds too chipper for Sanghyuk. He glances into the mirror on his windshield, feeling a bit more at ease when he sees Youngkyun asleep against the window. His cheeks are wet, and his hair covers most of his face, but the even rising and falling of his chest lets Sanghyuk know that he’s exhausted himself. He feels horrible, and he prays that Youngkyun will one day understand what happened in the spare bedroom of the enemy legion, will understand that Sanghyuk did it to save them.

He wonders if this is how Youngbin felt.

Jaeyoon’s the next to fall asleep, and soon it’s just Sanghyuk and Inseong to fill the void of silence in the vehicle. Inseong forces himself to stay awake, fingernails digging into his thighs painfully each time his body attempts to drift off.

“You should sleep.” Sanghyuk deadpans, leaning back as he continues to listen to the woman on the radio giving him directions to their next haven.

It was over. The fight was done; Youngbin and Chanhee had been avenged, and life could finally go on. Well, as best as it could. Sanghyuk doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover; he’d felt lives slip from his hands like sand.

“No, I… Can we talk for a minute?” Inseong rests his head against the window, unbuckling himself from the seat so he can turn fully towards Sanghyuk, pulling one leg under himself while the other dangles over the seat still. Nervously, Sanghyuk nods, knowing that he would rather wait to talk about them until they were somewhere else. Anywhere else. He doesn’t like being so open, so vulnerable in front of Jaeyoon and Youngkyun, though both of them are beyond exhausted and wouldn’t be waking up for quite some time.

He’s scared to have this conversation.

“I thought I hated you.” Inseong starts, watching Sanghyuk as he speaks. “But, when I saw you today… I don’t know what changed. You stole my memories,” Inseong watches Sanghyuk flinch, watches him begin to tremble, “but I know that you didn’t mean to. I know you wouldn’t hurt me, you were just… Being used, and tricked, and manipulated by someone else. You were being toyed with, right?”

Inseong isn’t sure if Sanghyuk will defend himself or not, so he pauses, hanging on his last word as he waits. When Sanghyuk stays silent, he continues. “Well, I know you wouldn’t hurt me. You never did, you always protected me. Even today. So, what’s going to happen to us?”

He cuts through the rest of it aggressively, jumping straight to the point. Sanghyuk bites his lip, flicking the blinker on as he merges into another lane, preparing to exit. They weren’t far, about a half an hour more of driving and they’d be somewhere safer, protected, if at least for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“I want us to go back to how we were before,” Inseong states, and Sanghyuk’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel, “don’t you?”

“Why?”

The question remains unanswered, and Sanghyuk sighs angrily. “Why would you _ever_ want to be with somebody like me? All I do is...” He feels Chanhee against him, his head on his shoulder, hears the final bells. “I just take. And kill. And consume.”

“Because you’re Sanghyuk.” Inseong shrugs, turning to look out the window. Storm clouds brew in the distance, and lightning flashes far, far away. It strikes down, disappearing just as quickly as it had occurred. Inseong slips back into the seat, legs around his bag as his hands fall into his lap. “You’re not who you think you are. You’re much, much different.”

“Yeah, well...” Sanghyuk scoffs. “That’s hard to believe.”

* * *

Weeks pass, yet nothing seems to change for Sanghyuk. Youngkyun seems to become more understanding, finally speaking to Sanghyuk again on the second week of them being in Jinhae. He wants to attend a local university, and Sanghyuk encourages him to immediately. Jaeyoon becomes more sure of himself, of everything around. He picks up another job easily, distracting himself from the monster of the past that haunts him in the night.

Inseong never stops trying to rekindle the wreckage of his relationship with Sanghyuk. Weeks turn to months, yet Inseong is always right there.

Months turn to a year.

Inseong stops trying.

Sanghyuk lays in bed one night, dreading his day of work the next day. He’d picked up a job at the local elementary school, easily slipping in as a teacher’s aid. He’d lied, doctored some fake papers from some made up university in America. The school had believed him, and if they hadn’t, they were short enough on staff to accept him.

He hated the job, but he earned a good amount of money, and couldn’t bring himself to quit. He liked helping the students, but hated how he saw Chanhee in every one of them. In the boastful boys and gossiping girls, Chanhee was similar, and it breaks Sanghyuk’s heart each time he makes the connection.

He’d grown to accept the past, as everyone in the home had, but he still had a gaping hole in his chest that begged for a different outcome. He’s miserable, and he doesn’t know what he can do to change how he feels.

“Sanghyuk?”

His bedroom door creaks open, and Sanghyuk turns onto his side to see Inseong. “Your phone was in the bathroom, and it started ringing? I don’t know if it’s that important, but here.” Inseong walks into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. His hair is dripping wet, dark brown strands curling around his neck as he walks over to the bed. He hands Sanghyuk his phone, and the younger catches the soft smell of the other’s strawberry shampoo.

“Are you okay?” The brunette murmurs, standing awkwardly next to the bed. “You’re… You look really sad.” He smiles, bringing a hand down to pat Sanghyuk’s encouragingly. “I’m here if you need to talk, okay?”

Inseong turns to leave, yet Sanghyuk’s hand lashes out and grabs his wrist. “Wait!”

“Yeah?” Inseong isn’t shocked by the sudden movement, as if he’d almost expected it in some way. “What’s up?”

“Stay with me.” Sanghyuk whispers, sitting up slowly. Inseong tuts, pulling his hand away slowly. “Please?” Sanghyuk pleads with him, staring desperately at the brunette. “I… I really need you here tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” Inseong mumbles, peeling his shirt off before slipping into the bed. The summer heat made the comforters hot, and imagining sharing the thick blankets with another person was agonizing in itself.

‘Just for tonight’ becomes ‘just this week’, and then it’s the ‘last time’ three nights in a row. Inseong begins to grow exhausted with the other’s behavior, and finally snaps a week after he’d begun to stop labeling the nights dismissively.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act like I don’t still care about you when all you want to do is touch me all of a sudden!” Inseong shouts, gritting his teeth as he stands on one side of the room.

“I’m not keeping you here, if you don’t want to stay here tonight then go! You’re the one who keeps coming back!” Sanghyuk defends, taking a step forward. Inseong takes one towards the other, confidently straightening his posture as he advances on Sanghyuk, placing a finger sharply against his chest.

“Who do you think you are?”

Sanghyuk frowns, grinding his teeth together as Inseong continues. “This fucking sucks. I don’t know if you’re playing with me or what, but this is so fucking cruel. This is mean. I don’t...” He takes a step back, carding his hands through his hair. “I can’t tell if you still love me, or if I’m just holding onto hope at this point, and...” He sniffles, shaking his head roughly, “I hate that I still love you. After all this time, I just can’t let go.”

“I...” Sanghyuk gently reaches out, grabbing the other’s hand softly. “I’m sorry.”

The room is colored in a blue haze, the moon outside bright as it shines through the thin, paper-like blinds. Crickets chirp in the grass outside of the opened bedroom window, and the trees sway in the breeze. Sanghyuk takes a deep breath, pulling Inseong against himself as he tries to understand why he had been so attached to the other as well. He notices his heart lurch when the other’s fingers fold against his, and he decides not to push down his emotions anymore. He stops doubting himself, and instead rests his head against Inseong’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, either.” He whispers, and Inseong hangs onto every single word Sanghyuk mutters. “And I don’t know what to do.”

Something unsaid passes between the both of them. It’s in the wind, how it whistles through the leaves, and how the cool night breeze makes them shiver in the equally as cold room. It’s wanting, nervous and tentative all at the same time.

Inseong hesitantly breaks away, taking a step towards the bed. “Then, maybe we should just see...” He swallows thickly, averting his eyes when Sanghyuk’s show a glint of something he hadn’t seen since he’d visited the man when they had first begun dating. “If something’s still there.”

Sanghyuk’s hand inches up to his shirt collar, and he slowly pulls it off. “I mean, if _you’re_ implying it, then...”

“I think you implied it.”

Sanghyuk smirks. “Oh, bullshit.” He crosses the room and locks the door, still holding his shirt in his hands. When he turns to see Inseong stripping in front of the window, with the pale moonlight cascading over his body, he drops the shirt and walks quickly to him, assisting him in pulling off his shirt, wrestling the brunette’s fingers when the two each try to pull off his jeans at the same time.

“Fucking Christ, impatient ass.” Inseong quips when Sanghyuk grows tired of trying to unlatch the other’s belt, and instead goes to work on kissing the side of his neck. “You’re starting already?”

“You take too long.”

“So, like I just said, _impatient as_ s.” Inseong repeats himself, earning a soft grumble from Sanghyuk. The demon glares at the other, shoving him down onto the bed. He stands above him and brings a hand down quickly, grabbing hold of Inseong’s wrists before pinning them above his head. His other hand works slowly at unbuckling the other’s belt, and when it’s finally done Sanghyuk takes his time with sliding it out, never breaking eye contact with Inseong.

Sanghyuk, again, takes his time when he slides the other’s jeans down. Inseong whines, lifting his hips in an attempt to make the other take his clothes off quicker, but the action only makes Sanghyuk stop. “I’m impatient?”

“No, you’re not, I’m sorry.” Inseong smiles apologetically, a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek from the sudden heat that had grown between the two.

“Mm.” Sanghyuk nods, continuing to go slowly as he undresses the other. And, when Inseong’s laying naked in front of him, Sanghyuk leans forward and gently brushes his finger against the other’s length before drawing away, beginning to pull his own sweats off. Inseong huffs, bringing a hand down before Sanghyuk snaps back upwards, stopping Inseong’s hand. “Stay still.”

“What? Come on, quit playing and just fuck me.”

“No, you can wait.” Sanghyuk smirks. Then, as an afterthought, spits out an “impatient ass” with a mocking tone. Inseong pouts, and Sanghyuk undresses before slipping onto the bed, straddling the other. “Keep your hands up by your head.”

“Like this?” Inseong brings his hands to each side of his head, palms facing upwards while his fingers curl down in a relaxed manner. Sanghyuk nods, bringing his lips down to the other’s jaw, kissing his way to his lips, avoiding kissing him fully to draw out the other’s annoyance. “Sanghyuk-”

He’s cut off by the other’s lips folding snugly over his, and he gasps as he kisses back. He tries to bring a hand up to card through the other’s hair, but Sanghyuk pins his hands when he moves them, breaking the kiss the moment Inseong disobeys him. “What did I tell you to do?”

“Sanghyuk. We’re having sex, not joining the fucking military.”

“What,” Sanghyuk hisses, wrapping his fingers around the other’s wrist tightly, “did I tell you to do?”

Inseong scoffs, letting the other place his hands back down before rolling his eyes. “Keep my hands by my head. I’ve got it.”

“You’re such a brat.” Sanghyuk growls, a sadistic smile growing on his face. “And I get to have the pleasure of making you behave.”

Inseong bites his lip, closing his eyes as he feels the other’s lips slip against his neck. Sanghyuk hums against his skin, sighing happily when he rests at the other’s hips, dangerously close to him. Inseong’s ready to feel the other, but becomes annoyed when Sanghyuk sits up and changes their position, pulling Inseong onto his lap, having him face the room while his back presses tightly against Sanghyuk’s chest. He wraps his arms carefully around Inseong’s waist, drawing him backwards happily.

“I’m never letting you go.”

Inseong can’t tell if it’s meant to be reassuring or a possible threat, but given the context and how Sanghyuk’s arms are locked so tightly around his waist, he can only assume it’s the latter. “And why’s that?” Inseong whispers nervously, excitedly, feeling the other’s breath hot on his neck as Sanghyuk’s lips once again travel across his skin.

Sanghyuk laughs, but there’s no amusement in his words. Hunger and lust hide behind each of his consonants and vowels, and Inseong shivers when the other speaks. “Because you’re mine, remember?”

“I remember.” Inseong whispers, leaning back when he feels the other’s hand slide down to gently wrap around him. “Fuck, Sanghyuk… Sanghyuk!” He shouts, his hands falling to his sides, fingers clawing weakly at Sanghyuk’s thighs.

With bated breath, Inseong waits to feel the other further when Sanghyuk’s hands slip under his thighs and lift him up, letting him slip back down slowly. “Oh, fucking Christ, Sanghyuk stop playing with me!” Inseong groans, leaning back to look up to the other, pouting.

“What? You like it.” Sanghyuk laughs, finally dropping the act. “Come on, kitten.”

The name makes Inseong’s face turn red, and he sits forward slowly. “That… Come on...”

“Oh? You like that, _kitten_?” Sanghyuk teases, quickening his pace on the other before slipping into him, Inseong gasping as he tries to calm down his quickening breath, his pulse pounding in his chest and throat as Sanghyuk begins rolling his hips upwards, chuckling when Inseong moans. “Come on, kitten.”

“I don’t know if I like that or hate it,” Inseong smiles, feeling closer to the other than he had in a long, long time. Years, to be precise. “But, when you say it...”

“Don’t get cute on me, you’ll make this so hard for me.”

“Isn’t that kind of the goal of this?” Inseong jokes, earning a soft gasp from Sanghyuk, who stifles a laugh against the other’s shoulder.

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

The next day, Sanghyuk doesn’t look at Inseong. He feels awkward, exposed though he’s completely clothed.

Jaeyoon yawns, sitting at the table when Sanghyuk’s leaving for work. “Hey, you off?”

“Yeah.” Sanghyuk slips his shoes on, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check his reflection in the display of it. His eyes catch the screen, and he sees how red they appear, glimmering… He’s reminded painfully of what he is, and it makes him hate how close he was with Inseong the night before, so oblivious to the pain and horror that Inseong could have been subjected to once again. “Do I look okay?” He tries to forget the night before; it was a fluke. It would never happen again.

“You look great.”

Sanghyuk stills, turning to see Inseong standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “You look like you just saw a ghost, do I look that bad?” Bruises cover his neck from where Sanghyuk had mapped his excitement the night before, and Sanghyuk takes a step back when Inseong takes one forward.

He doesn’t stop until he’s inches away, and Sanghyuk looks up helplessly at the other when he smiles. He feels trapped, but knows that there’s nobody else he’d rather be so fixated on.

Slowly, Inseong leans down and kisses him, pulling away after a moment. Sanghyuk chases his lips, but he’s denied when Inseong turns away. “Maybe later.”

“But-”

“Have a good day, you’re going to be late.”

The interaction is hopelessly domestic, and Sanghyuk adores it. Inseong smirks, urging him towards the door. Sanghyuk turns when he’s halfway out the door, just taking in the sight of Inseong standing in the doorway, one of his own hoodies covering the brunette’s skin and a pair of shorts dangling to his knees. His hair, messy and curled from sleep, is inviting enough for Sanghyuk to quickly make his way back to Inseong, kissing his cheek before raising a hand to tousle his hair, turning and running to the car.

Inseong angrily stares after him, a furious blush covering his cheeks. Sanghyuk can hear his shout from the rolled down car windows as he starts the vehicle and pulls out of the driveway, leaving behind the man he’s begun to feel a familiar excitement towards once again. “You’re going to be _late_!”

Part of Sanghyuk is terrified to fall back in love with Inseong, but another part of him is ready for it, eager to get back home to fall back into the brunette’s arms.

Yet, at the same time, Sanghyuk feels something lurking in the darkness surrounding the bright, happy excitement he feels. It threatens _everything_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it feels weird that badlands is over, it felt like so much shorter of a time than it really was that i spent writing this TT__TT. im kind of sad that its over, but this fic caused me so much trouble, i cant help but be a little grateful, too. it meant a lot to me. but, each death hit harder, and writing this chapter... oh man.  
> i hope you enjoyed it, i'm sorry if you didnt. :,D.  
> i love you!! + hey, catch me on twt or cc, i'm an idiot as much as i am a writer - elise  
> twt: blossomfic  
> cc: blossomfic

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd like to visit my twitter, carrd or curiouscat, click below! ♡
> 
> my twt: https://twitter.com/blossomfic  
> my carrd: https://ghosteds.carrd.co/  
> my cc: https://curiouscat.me/blossomfic


End file.
